A Sorta Fairytale
by SoddingMuses
Summary: Set immediately after the Blight where one Kallian Tabris defeated the Archdemon at the cost of herself. Leaving her former lover Alistair not only to pick up the pieces of his heart but to try and piece together a broken nation with a lady he finds himself having to call wife and keep it from more sinister machinations. Get ready for a bumpy ride!
1. Prolouge

Ok, hoping that putting up this story might help promote me finishing it as well as get me some feedback on my writing ability here. I'm aiming for updates to be monthly since I am looking after my brother's boys while he is deployed. That makes life a bit crazy there! Thanks to Ladyamesindy for betaing for me. Love you dear! :)

Prologue

"Oh sweet Maker...anyone see what the warhammer that hit me was made of?" Alistair groaned as he slowly came to. His face felt like an ogre had rammed it and the rest of him was not feeling much better. He could feel blood, warm and wet in spots while caked and almost dried in others. His clothes damp from the sweat, his muscles protested him even moving, and his armor felt heavier than it had in a long time. The ringing in his ears was just as painful though he ignored them and worked to sit up.

What struck him first was the stillness, the complete and utter quiet that reigned supreme in that moment. It was the most unnatural thing to him after months of fighting and camping. If he strained his ears he might hear the wind whistling as the ringing faded. He shook his head in an effort to hasten things but failed. It left him to rely on other senses like the stench of dead darkspawn and the sight of an empty roof to inform him where he was. He stood carefully, mindful to keep grips on his father's sword and Duncan's shield, just in case of more attackers that he was not seeing through fire and smoke.

He might not have seen any enemies but he certainly saw none of his friends either. He could have been completely alone up on this tower without even an angry archdemon to eat him. The thought had him taking a few steps. Did everyone run off to celebrate victory and leave him behind? No...Kallian would never have...

"Kalli!" Alistair cried suddenly as memory returned painfully. He should have expected a blighted dirty trick from her! Was that not how she always ended up besting him when they had sparred around camp? He was afraid then, afraid to see but helpless to do anything but look.

He could see the archdemon, the size of it grand even as a corpse with a sword stuck in it's skull. It's vile blood coating the roof in a gory smear with a form looking so small in a pool of blood nearby. The ancient armor she had collected was dented, torn, and blackened from attacks. The helm was gone, having fallen off somewhere he was sure, leaving that long black hair trailing in the blood from where it escaped the normally tight bun on the top of her head.

Alistair was barely aware for screaming Kallian's name, or of running over to her. He just knew he was on his knees, weapons carelessly dumped to the side as he pulled the green eyed elf's body to him. "No no no...you can't be dead. Not my tough little shem smiter. Open those eyes now, come on. Kallian? Do not make me clean up your mess, you know you have to do that."

He shook her a bit even as his mind rang with Riordan's words about what would happen, what had needed to happen. No the older warden was wrong or Kallian found a loophole in the situation. Something! Anything!

"Wynne!" he bellowed out then, "Wynne help me! Kallian is...she's..."

The sob ripped his heart open, all the pain pouring out as Alistair felt hot tears run down his cheeks. "Please no...Kalli I can't... You said you would be here. You and your sister...cousin...the red head, you two have a night of drinking ahead of you remember? You promised her that. You and me...we have to go have supper with your father. He is going to sit and be all fatherly intimidating about us and you would talk him around. That is what you said before... before..."

He ran a hand over her blood caked hair, hugging the lifeless body to his chest. She always loved curling up against him, told him it was like having her own little fort against the world. "You are suppose to be here," he whispered in a broken tone. "You said you would be here to help me. So I would not be alone with Anora to rule. You remember don't you? Even though we..."

Alistair rocked her then, like she was a baby. His mind went back to the last conversation he had with his friend...his love, not the Warden as people called her. He could feel his heart breaking all over again remembering how she had looked as he told her it was over between them. How she had pointed out he was a king now and could do whatever he wanted, including have a mistress. He would admit being tempted, could far too easily imagine it.

She was just an elf to some after all and it was not unheard of for nobles to have women on the side that enticed them far more than their wives. He had refused though, he did not want a sham of a marriage or even only half of a relationship. She had been furious and yelled at him, reminding him exactly of how she was an elf. She had always been aware they would never be more than what they were. He had seen the hurt in those bright green eyes though, was reminded how she never got sad, she got angry. She had punched him then to...

"Please...please don't go Kalli," he murmured as he rocked the embodiment of his shattered heart. "I promise I will take you back. We can make it work somehow...just don't leave me here alone...please. You said I would not have to do this alone."

There was no response, no movement, no swears, not even a blink. Just those green eyes staring at nothing. They didn't glare, or dance, or get that mischief making twinkle they sometimes did. They didn't look tired, hurt, wrathful, or even defiant at the hand fate dealt. There was just...nothing. Nothing there in a woman that Alistair had always known to be so expressive and emotional.

He cradled that beloved face of hers, even the tattoo that he always thought made her look wild. Had she not told him she got it because she had wanted to be a dalish? It had fit her perfectly with that wild and sometimes raging personality of hers. He pressed his lips to a cold forehead before laying his cheek there, closing his eyes and holding her just one more time. Hope slowly leaking away that she was not gone.

He had no prayers, even with all that templar training he had received. He supposed it was fitting, considering what Riordan had told them in Redcliffe.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you," he recited, brushing hair and closing the eyes of the dead as his throat tried to close up. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten...and one day...I shall join you..."


	2. Chapter 1: The Ones Left Behind

Chapter 1: The Ones Left Behind

_Jader Orlais, 1 month later_

Anora's blue eyes squinted in critical study as she surveyed herself in the mirror. Her coloration was really not one made for dark colors but given the nature of the event it was required. Wearing brighter colors or even her normal pastels was frowned upon at funerals and while the Warden had a proper funeral already, the processional to her final resting place would take months at least. Only in Ferelden though were the bearers of the casket the people themselves and not the Grey Wardens. Today would be the last time the deceased elf would be in her homeland. She was to be handed over to the Orlesian Wardens who would see to her physical travel through Orlais and onward to Weisshaupt. She would no longer be the responsibility of Ferelden and the county could get back to more important things like rebuilding.

_Or dealing with that blasted King of ours._

Anora scowled for a moment even as she adjusted a few spots on her dress. The king had obviously not been thinking clearly the last few days. Anora knew very well he had been mourning more than just a hero of his country, she knew a fool in love when she saw one. Anora had known the situation was not going to be any different from her marriage with Cailan but she was still here, still able to work for what was best for Ferelden. As she always would, with or without Theirin support. She was merely worried that Alistair would get more foolish notions into his head, as he had when he had gone giving the Wardens the Arling of Amaranthine as well as making an elven Bann, an elf! As if the nobility was not going to be enough of a hassle without the man giving them fuel for the angry fires.

It was not that Anora disliked elves or thought they deserved less of a place. Erlina was far more competent than a number of human women in the nobility the queen knew. It was simply that now was the worst time for such actions and they reflected badly upon them that he had not asked her about things to begin with. She could have listed any number of reasons why both ideas were terrible and stopped him.

They would have to discuss them once this was finished. She could do some damage control for the Grey Warden and Alienage situation and explain to his majesty how things were going to work around here. She had been refraining from that topic because of him being in mourning. Emotions had been running high after the death of the archdemon but it was approaching a month since the Battle of Denerim. If the man was becoming sound enough to make royal decrees he was back enough to discuss matters in a reasonable manner and understand his errors. She was not going to spend the rest of her life cleaning up his political and social messes, she simply did not have the time or inclination to waste upon such things.

As if the Maker decided to torment Anora a little more as she started trying to brush out her hair she heard a hasty knock on her door before it cracked open for Erlina to enter the room. The queen did not even turn from the mirror as she closed her eyes against the headache starting to chip away at her skull. "Please tell me that for once you are only here to help me finish preparing for matters?" she asked as she stilled in the act of braiding her hair for it's customary twists.

"I am afraid not your majesty. The king is...being difficult...again," the elf informed with a hesitant tone. She cringed as Anora dropped her hair, a cold and militant look leaping into her eyes as she took a deep breath.

One might have thought Anora would scream, shout, or maybe throw something. Instead however she held the breath for a moment before slowly letting it out of her nose. Her hands coming together in front of her as if she was about to make some important decree as she turned for the door. "Very well, I shall see to him and then I will require you to help me finish preparing. Make sure everything I require is out and ready by the time I return."

"Yes your majesty."

Anora sailed from the room like a hero from those tales Cailan had loved so, intending to meet this challenge before her. Her hair waving out behind her like a banner as she quickened her steps to see how bad things were. She could only imagine really with Alistair so far, she had yet to learn of all the man's quirks and habits that might need to be addressed.

Thankfully, Alistair had been content to keep his antics inside his chambers wherever they stayed and today was no exception. The door was even left open, to show the king sitting on his bed. A mabari stood next to him with it's head in his lap, looking at him with sad and sorrowful eyes. The dog Anora knew was not technically Alistair's, it had imprinted on the Warden that was now dead. With it's master gone it had taken a shine to the now ex-warden turned king and followed him where he went. Anora was not sure what to make of it honestly, other than take it to mean that Alistair and the Warden had been close, something she had already known.

The brown eyed man simply sat staring into space, one hand absently scratching the mabari's head. He had at least taken the time to pull on a shirt and pants though the latter was open at the throat and his feet were completely bare. The pair of silver chains around his neck winking as the cracked pendant with Andraste's flames and some black vial dangled. He was not ready for the ceremonial handing over of the Warden like she almost was and the time for it was closing in.

Anora had to pull in another long breath before letting it sigh out of her nose again. Her chin tilted up in a stubborn cast, her hands clasped before her stomach again. She stepped inside as she would have walked into any meeting of state, be it with an irate bann, a disgruntled castle servant, or the Empress of Orlais.

She expected a greeting, if not a correct and polite "Your majesty" at least a look or scowl or something. Instead as she stepped into his field of vision Alistair stayed as he was, staring off. The mabari paid more attention to her than the former warden did, looking at her and giving a plaintive whine. Certainly this was not something Anora was use to, or that she appreciated. "Alistair, you need to hurry up and dress for the ceremony," she said in a brisk, no nonsense tone.

He ignored her like he had ignored her presence. Anora felt a spark of temper from it because no one ignored the queen. She took another breath instead of shouting, for shouting certainly would solve nothing in this arena she was in. She tried talking to him again, just a little louder in case his time on a battle field had somehow damaged his hearing in spite of it being fine the other day. When she still got no response her lips thinned and blue eyes flared, temper rearing again as she reached out a hand, snapping her fingers right in Alistair's face.

That certainly got a reaction. The man jumped up as if pulled on strings, hands reaching for weapons and a look on his face Anora could only assume he wore in combat. She took a couple steps back, opting to be on the safe side in case Alistair did not regain his senses. Thankfully that did not seem to be the case as tawny colored eyes blinked and finally seemed to focus on her.

"Anora?" Alistair said, sounding very confused. "What are you..." He looked around, seeming to take in his surroundings for the first time before rubbing a hand through his hair. "I thought..."

The queen opted to resume or former stance as she eyed Alistair critically as she frowned. She did not ask if he was well, his color was normal there was no sweating and he certainly nothing to point to him being ill. "Alistair you need to dress for the ceremony," she said, her annoyance at the situation leaking into her words. "You will have plenty of time for your daydreaming later."

She looked around then and found his clothes easily enough. Since Alistair refused to have a manservant to help him dress Anora had Erlina making sure all the proper attire was out and ready. Then at least it was only a matter of her and her maid making sure Alistair did not have a shirt tail hanging out or a button missed. She stepped over and picked up the doublet, snapping it out to inspect for wrinkles. "Close your shirt properly and let us hurry. I still need to finish preparing myself."

She could hear Alistair's scowl in his tone. "Yes Maker forbid we leave people waiting because some of us would rather eat glass than attend this ridiculous party celebrating a loved one's death."

Anora took another of those deep breathes as she turned with the doublet. Thankfully the man was handling the tunic at least, even if he was complaining...again. "It is our duty to the fallen to see that they are taken care of, and to toast to the memory of a hero with our hosts."

"Because of course we can't actually mourn them like normal people," the king continued in a testy tone as he took the doublet, pulling it on so rough that Anora started praying that the stitching would not tear. She also prayed for patience that she was in short supply of after dealing with this scenario time and again.

"Alistair it has been a month and you have responsibilities to see to-"

"To the bloody void with that!" Alistair yelled suddenly, turning on Anora and making her jump a bit in surprise. Her eyes wide from it as she could only recall the last time someone yelled at her like that. It had been her own father when she brought up calling the Orlesians for help to deal with the Blight.

"I am not a damn unfeeling golem like you are! I lost the only family I really had! I lost my best friend and the one woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with! And now you all expect me to dress up and smile and rub elbows with pretentious noble half wits that care more about their standing and fashions and dining with a bloody king than about the woman that died saving them from being an archdemon's dinner?"

Anora had to resist the urge to grin at Alistair's summary of Orlesian nobles even as the barb about her being an unfeeling golem stung a bit. She did not care for the Orlesian airs and petty concerns either honestly. However she recognized the requirement to deal with such people while Alistair obviously did not. "Yes," she answered in a calm but firm voice, her expression staying neutral and betraying none of the hurt or amusement she felt from his words. "We, as in Ferelden and her people, expect our king to represent us to foreigners. We expect him to show the strength to lead the rest of us in moving on and rebuilding from terrible times. We expect him to behave as a king, not a commoner."

"Well maybe you and Ferelden need to lower your standards or realize who you got as king," Alistair snipped back. "Dress me up however you like I can't be anything but myself here and I'm not going to smile and be a happy king when it's the last time I'm going to see a loved one, be she alive or dead."

Now until this time Anora considered herself as having amazing patience. However Alistair's constant need to bring up losing a loved one had grated and flayed that patience. Her voice got sharper, though no louder. The ice in it might have frozen most men at a hundred paces. "You are hardly the only one who had lost a loved one Alistair. I remind you I lost my husband and my father during the Blight, the latter far more recently. Yet I am managing to continue on and do my duties in spite of grief."

"That's because you are a ice hearted bitch who's father deserved the beheading he got."

Anora could feel her stomach drop. She said nothing, struck speechless from Alistair's words. Something must have shown because the fight and anger left those hazel eyes and had the king running a frustrated hand through his hair again. "Maker's blood Anora I-"

"Stop," she hissed out, holding up her hand and silencing whatever Alistair had been about to say. The tension in the quiet that stretched was thick as she took a few more of those deep breathes again, calming herself as much as could though inside she was shaky. She reminded herself of her duties, that they did not have time for this mess. "You are to dress and meet me in the foyer in ten minutes. If you are not there I will come up with something to excuse your absence."

Anora turned then, leaving the room at a brisk but unhurried pace least she give the impression of fleeing. She was not running, she was simply finished with dealing with a boy having a temper tantrum about the injustices of life. She would no longer humor his behavior To think she had once thought him biddable, that he would be easy enough to handle.

She returned to her own quarters, quick to sit before her mirror and let Erlina tend her hair as she calmed the emotions rolling through her. Cailan had never been so aggravating. Perhaps because he had known and been raised to know what to do when. It had been closer to second nature for the former king. Alistair was getting used to it Anora knew, and a tiny piece of her felt he was managing well enough. To be thrown into the realm of politics after his friend and lover's death could not have been easy. However she did not feel that coddling Alistair was the right course of action. Reality would have delivered a cold slap to him sooner or later, it was better that she speed it up so he got use to his position and understood that the best course of action was to simply do as she told him.

"Your mind is still on his majesty?" Erlina said quizzically as she started to braid Anora's hair.

"He is being stubborn and childish," Anora replied, trying not to fume over matters but doing it anyway. "He wishes for more time to mourn but royalty does not have the luxury of time to spend idle and thinking of the past. The sooner he realizes this the better off we shall be."

There was silence for a moment before Erlina responded, "Perhaps he is right though."

Anora frowned, giving her maid a pointed stare in the mirror. "It has been a month Erlina. He has had plenty of time to mourn and we have let him get away with this irrational behavior for too long now. He must be brought into line."

"Perhaps your majesty, but he is only a man, non?" The elf said as she finished tying off one braid and started to curl it around to secure at the base of Anora's neck. "People do not have levers to open and close the gates on their emotions and feelings. Some losses take longer to accept than others and not all of us are as strong in resolve as you are my lady."

"Is that a polite way of saying I am a cold hearted ...woman?" Anora asked before she had a chance to really think about her words. She regretted them instantly, annoyed with herself for letting Alistair's comments get under her skin.

"It is an observation, nothing more, your majesty," the elf assured, her fingers quickly pinning Anora's hair before switching to braid the other side.

The queen gave a regal nod of acceptance at the elf's explanation before she looked herself in the mirror again. An unfeeling golem and ice hearted Anora was not. What she was was a queen and she had learned long ago that she could not let the heart rule her. If she did than Ferelden would be ruled by it and who knew what disasters might be wrought from that. Cailan for example with his heart set on being a great king and hero to his people like his father. Now he was a tragic one, having never learned that being a great hero did not make one a great king.

No she was no golem or icy of heart. What Anora considered herself was steel. Steel willed and shrewd in her resolve to see to Ferelden's growth and security. To it's people and it's spirit so that they were never again on their knees and at the mercy of foreign powers. She was steel because that was what Ferelden required her to be.

It helped to remember such things when she felt herself weakening or when people said such comments like Alistair, for he was certainly not the first. He was only the first to tell her such things to her face and not behind whispered hands while her back was turned.

She could respect him a little for that at least.

Finally Anora was ready as Erlina placed the crown on her head and made sure it was not going to do something as foolish as slip off in the middle of things. It was a simple thing, much like the matching one for Alistair. Hammered gold glinting as she passed into the hall on her way to the foyer. Blue eyes sweeping the empty place and seeing only a lone footman that was to show them the way. That weakened feeling came back and the crown on her head seemed to feel heavier, as if it would bow her to the floor under the weight of making excuses. She had said she would make them though, and obviously Alistair was not-

"Wait! Wait for me!"

Or...maybe he was coming?

Anora kept her surprise from her expression as Alistair came running up to her, crown in hand. The footman nearby looking far too interested in matters as Alistair flushed a bit.

"Er...I can't seem to get the hang of putting this blasted thing on myself," he said as he held his crown out to Anora.

She blinked at him a few times, expecting him to suddenly vanish. When he stayed right where he was she took the circle of gold from him carefully eyes roaming over him to make sure shirttails and buttons were where they should be. "That is because you cannot just plunk it on your head like a helm your highness. You always require someone to bestow it upon your brow."

He gave her a grin as he bent at the knee to lower himself enough for her to place said headwear. As he straightened from their completed chore he looped his arm through hers as was proper but she had to place his hand correctly since he tried holding hers which was incorrect before they both looked at the footman expectantly.

The soldier gave a crisp salute before turning on his heel and marching, king and queen in tow. Anora looked at Alistair out of the corner of her eye. "I am glad to see that you saw reason about matters," she said quietly so the guards and their guide would not hear.

Alistair looked at her as well out of the corner of his own eyes for a moment before looking ahead again. "I am not doing this because of your earlier arguments, it being my duty, or for Ferelden," he commented back.

"You are not?" Anora replied in a puzzled tone.

"No."

Silence stretched as they walked, Anora waiting for an explanation while Alistair seemed unaware that he should provide one. The queen finally got impatient over matters and pinched his arm to make sure she had his attention. "Why then may I ask are you here?"

For a moment she thought he was going to ignore her again. Sunlight stung her eyes a bit, making her squint them shut as they passed into the outdoors.

"You know you look much better when your hair is down," Alistair replied as they passed under an archway and into the crowded event. Anora would have been happy to curse him then because she could ask no further questions about the matter or put the subject back where she wanted it to be without risking being overheard.

She was starting to wonder if Alistair had done that on purpose along with his sudden switching of topics. If so, it meant he was learning and that had the potential to be another cauldron of headaches and problems for Anora. None of which she could address as she fixed a polite smile on her face and walked on the arm of the man being a constant thorn in her side.

* * *

Much later Alistair sat next to Anora at a massive banquet while he did his best not to inhale his food and display manners. Part of him was grateful for the lessons in etiquette templars required, another hated every person in the room. After over a year of having to eat on the run and commonly needing to shovel as much as he could into his stomach quickly, manners were hard to remember.

He did his best though, usually waiting and seeing what Anora grabbed or did before doing anything himself. Most people were done eating now but Alistair was still hungry so he kept grabbing more from the dishes around him. At least until he felt a firm pinch at his arm that had him glaring at Anora. Really the woman was going to leave bruises at her rate and strength of pinching his arm.

"Quit eating you are behaving like a pig," she hissed as loud as she dared.

"Well now that's a bit harsh. I might not have the greatest of manners but I'm certain I am better than a pig," Alistair commented with a disgruntled air.

"It is rude to eat someone out of house and home. People are going to think something is wrong with you at the rate you are devouring food."

Alistair was half tempted to tell her that they would not be too far off in that assessment. He refrained because while he had a feeling he would have to discuss a few details about his former wardenship that were not leaving soon with his wife, now was not the time. The party was crowded, people were everywhere, and many liked coming and talking to them. Well to Anora, so far people had been giving him wide enough berth and he was content with that. Odds were he would end up insulting someone important or worse. Having a full mouth help to discourage people from talking to him in the first place.

"Seems a shame to waste all this food, particularly since I'm still hungry," Alistair stated, thinking to use Anora's love of logic to excuse things.

"Well then contain your appetite and we can get the servants to feed you more later. You should be socializing now and showing that you are a friendly king and not a hermit," Anora said in that crisp and no nonsense tone that was really starting to grate on Alistair's nerves..

"You know your tone there makes that sound like such a joyous thing to do," the tawny eyed man replied with as much lack in enthusiasm as his wife had with her own statement.

Those blue eyes fixed him with a steely look that Alistair recognized meant Anora was disapproving of his behavior, appearance, or whatever else. In this case it would be his comment about matters likely. "Go," she stated in a quiet tone that rang of command. "And just remember not to agree to anything of any sort."

Alistair glared, almost ready to stubbornly sit and keep eating just to spite the woman but he did as she bid him for now. He was already regretting even bothering to get these stiff formal clothes on and come to this wretched party with her. He should have gone with his original thought of staying in his room with Garahel. He had told the truth earlier in that it was not her arguments or Ferelden or his sense of duty that had him here. He did not care for any of the lot right that moment. He had stated as much as he sat in that darkened room after Anora sailed out like a ship, with Garahel giving him a whine and staring at him. Kallian had maintained that the dog could talk if you listened. Alistair somewhat believed her as he had spoken with the mabari after Anora left and he thought gotten a few responses in whines and grumblings that were the doggie language.

He recognized that Anora was correct in part. Kings did need to represent their countries and be strong for their people. He did not agree her lunatic notion of a cut off time for grieving. Maybe that worked for her or other nobles but not him. It had not worked with Duncan and it certainly was not likely to work with Kallian.

That did remind him of a stop he wanted to make on the way back to Denerim. He was not about to tell Anora, who was sure to have twenty million reasons to skip matters this time. He would have a word with the guard captain tomorrow when they departed to make sure they stopped, no reason to tell his wife about it and raise her ire that much sooner.

Maker he still needed to get use to that term, particularly in conjunction with Anora. She certainly would have been one of the last people he would have willingly bestowed that particular title upon. He had to admit though that Kallian had been thinking much clearer than himself in that decision likely. Anora seemed a capable enough ruler, Andraste's flames she had been running the country for Cailan after all. He had not honestly understood why Eamon and others demanded a Theirin on the throne. Leliana had told him later how Kallian felt that Anora needed a king with more compassion and fairness to help balance out her constant cold logic and politicking. Whatever that had meant to the elf.

"_Bonté_!" he heard suddenly feeling someone bump into him. Habit from living with Leliana, Kallian, and Zevran for a year had him automatically checking possessions as he looked at a lady brushing wrinkles from her dress. Dark curls on the top of her head dancing as she looked over her deep purple gown before looking at Alistair with chocolate brown eyes. "How clumsy of myself, I apologize," she began before she seemed to take in who exactly she had bumped into to. "De tout le mal que je pouvais atterrir po..." she said then, her tone low as if she was trying to mutter under her breath. "My apologizes your majesty, I was not watching-"

"No no, the fault was entirely mine. I was too busy thinking about...er important matters of state," he amended quickly. It was hardly a lie since he was pretty sure anything between him and Anora was always going to end up being a matter of state.

"Oh my, such a shame that our entertainments have bored you so that you contemplate matters of state when you should be enjoying yourself," the lady commented looking both appalled and saddened by his confession. "Perhaps it is simply that you lack a proper partner to introduce you to Orlesian entertainments?"

There was something funny about how the lady purred out Orlesian entertainments that had a small warning bell sounding in Alistair's head and had him leaning away from her. It was a bit difficult to think of why the warning was sounding in his head though as the lady once again adopted a look of being upset. "Nom d'Andraste! Je suis une barbare!" she said before dipping into a deep curtsey that had Alistair hoping she was of legal age. He was already feeling like a lecher because of Orlesian fashion seemed to lean towards putting the breasts on display. Considering the other ladies moving about this one was demure but her face seemed fresh out of the school room to him. "I am called Chantelle de Gautier your Majesté."

"I'm Alistair...er...King of Ferelden though you know that of course," he said with a cringe. He could almost feel Anora's disapproval already and she didn't even know about the situation. He just thought it was silly with people always calling him majesty or highness or what have you. It grated on his nerves and had to grate on theirs by his logic.

"But of course," Chantelle said with a warm smile. "If you please, pardon my manners and my poise. Never before have I conversed with someone of such import or stature."

Alistair could feel his face warm as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh er...well I'm not that important."

"_Absurdité,_" the dark haired woman said with a dismissive wave. "You were friend to _Le commandant des Wardens gris_, were you not? We know only of her, you knew her, that makes you far more important, _non?_"

"Only in your eyes it would seem my lady," Alistair said with a small grin. "Kallian might have agreed with you though. She was not really one for manners or poise either."

"_Vraiment?_" Chantelle asked before switching her words so Alistair knew what she said. "I know she was an elf from your fair city of Denerim. I have heard other, more wild tales as well, but I know not the real Hero of Ferelden. Was she as _sauvage _as they say?"

Alistair felt his mouth twitch just thinking of how Kallian would react to such a comment. A foul mouthed city elf with a chip on her shoulder towards shems as she liked to dub all humans. The chip had smoothed out slowly but he could remember being on the receiving end of her sharp tongued temper more than once. Even though she had possessed little patience for dealing with fools and commonly bemoaned wanting to bash the heads of people together until they saw sense, Kallian had possessed an ability to find a middle road where there was commonly none to see for most people.

"We'll leave it that she had her moments of being both blood thirsty and diplomatic," he stated with a small smile. "Whatever she did though she was fierce about. I remember Wynne, a friend of ours from Ferelden's Circle of Magi, compared her to a fireball once."

"_Vraiment?_" Chantelle asked, a look of interest and curiosity on her face.

That had Alistair chuckling, "Oh definitely. You always knew exactly where you stood with her, even if you preferred not to. You just hoped you were never to be on the other end of her blades. More than once I was certain she was going to run me and Morrigan through on the way to Lothering from the Kocari Wilds. Or on the way to Redcliffe...or Denerim...pretty much anytime either of us said two words to the other really."

Chantelle let out a lady like chuckle as she snapped open a fan and waved a breeze over herself. "She was a formidable mademoiselle then? The kind who would let no man catch her or tame her?"

Alistair felt his mood plummet from remembering happy times to again remembering how stricken Kallian had looked at their talk about their non-existent future. How she had wanted to stay with him, even though he was marrying someone else and he threw that away because...

"Yes...very formidable," he said quietly.

"_Créateur me guider_," Chantelle said, her voice full of sympathy as she laid a hand on Alistair's arm. "I am so sorry for your loss, _Majesté. _ I did not realize she was so dear."

That had Alistair's lips curving a little again. It was nice to know that someone in this cramped, stuffy, and snob filled soiree understood and sympathized with his loss. He opened his mouth to say so but was interrupted by an arm looping through his free one.

"Yes, we are all saddened by the loss of such a brave and charismatic woman as our dear Hero. We can only hope to try and live up to the fine example of character and strength she presented the world and we are proud to say she was from our homeland," Anora stated with the same tone and air she had presented when speaking numerous times before of Kallian at various other occasions. "She shall be a role model for generations to come I am certain. Speaking of such generations, my king there are a number of nobles that wish to meet you and discuss some matters between Orlais and Ferelden that may have effects on those generations." Blue eyes fixed on the black headed beauty for a moment before shifting to the hand on Alistair's other arm and back to the younger lady's face. "If you will excuse us, my lady."

The darker girl gave another deep courtesy, her face open and polite even as she picked up the pace with her fan, brown eyes distressed as Anora pinched Alistair's arm and had him pulled along.

"I'm sure whatever these nobles want to discuss doesn't warrant dragging me across the room," Alistair grumbled. "Or intimidating a poor lady so much that she looked ready to soil her skirts from your presence."

Blue eyes snapped to glare at him and Alistair knew a lecture was incoming, apparently sooner than he would have liked to as Anora directed him to an alcove. She took in one of those deep breathes that Alistair was starting to think was an annoying habit that translated into him being scolded like a child.

"I am going to explain this as clearly as I can since I know you are new to this arena Alistair. You cannot spend too much time in anyone's company at these things. Particularly if that person is a woman without title. It shows favoritism, as does speaking to them of your personal life," she told him, sounding like a sister from his templar training days. He half expected Anora to have a switch hiding in her skirts. "It can lead to rumors and speculation that paints us in a poor light. Something we need to avoid among foreigners and back home until we have solidified our hold on things."

Alistair looked at the queen like she had completely lost her mind as he connected the dots on matters. "By the Maker, Anora you think I...that she..." He could not even process the thought in all honesty and was more than a little bit insulted by Anora's insinuation. "We were just talking for Andraste's sake. She was curious about Kallian."

"Of course she was," Anora said with a huff. "Anyone with eyes can see your state and she is a topic guaranteed to not only have you talking about personal matters so but losing track of how long you have been speaking."

"Dear Maker Anora you sound as paranoid as your bloody father. Not everyone is out to get us, meaning us personally and Ferelden," Alistair pointed out with a disgruntled snort.

"When it comes to Orlesians you never know and frankly I-"

"Your royal highness!"

Alistair saw the curse in Anora's eyes more than heard it on her lips. Those blue spheres rolling heavenward before she closed them and took another of those long breathes. He was mildly pleased that for once it was not him who was the target of her ire even as he stared. It never failed to fascinate Alistair to watch how Anora switched from one expression to another, as if changing masks. Did it never get tiring to always be hiding one's feelings behind neutral expressions and painted smiles?

As she turned Alistair looked beyond his wife to see a silver haired man descending on them. He could hear the start of strings humming as the fellow tried to take Anora's hand only to have her pull it away and brush her sleeve as if inspecting it, leaving the man to bow without her hand.

"Ah the lovely rose of Ferelden," the silver haired fellow said making Alistair almost laugh at the strange title for Anora. "I beg of you grant this old man a dance with a beauty that may possibly rival that of our beloved Empress."

"Your lordship is kind to ask but I-"

The silver haired man suddenly looked to Alistair. "Oh but of course, forgive my manners. You were conversing with your husband who was no doubt discussing something important with you. Surely that can wait? A little dance is hardly to delay matters long, _non_?" the gentleman asked before giving a bow to Alistair. "Will you permit an old man a dance with your lovely wife your Majesté?"

Alistair swore he could feel the temperature plummet from Anora's anger as the man dodged around her and effectively had Alistair deciding if she danced or not. He had to admit that he relished having that over her head. It must have shown on his face because Anora's eyes were narrowed into icy slits with her usual disapproval.

"Certainly your lordship can have a dance," Alistair said. Not only would this get him out of the lecture she had been blistering his ears with but maybe it would put the bitch in her place. The only thing he wanted more was to sit and gleefully watch Morrigan get ran over by an ogre...which had happened a few times but he had never been in a position to appreciate fully. He could settle for watching Anora deal with someone she didn't like for a dance.

The lord was delighted and started to offer the queen his arm. Anora however looped her arm through Alistair's instead, pinching his arm hard again as she gave the pair of men a pleasant smile.

"After the dance you requested of course my king?" Anora supplied. Before Alistair could even say anything she was pulling him towards the floor. "Generous but really what kind of couple does not wish to have the first dance together."

"Indeed," the silver haired lord said with something close to a pout before brightening. "I shall find you for the next number then, sweet rose."

"Certainly," Anora said all but shoving Alistair along and pinching again when he tried to speak before the pair reached the dance floor. The former number ending and the musicians starting up another one as they left the crush of humanity behind them.

"I hope you realize we are going to look like complete fools now," Alistair stated in a grumpy tone. "I certainly did not take dance lessons at anytime in my life."

"Then maybe you should have thought about that before trying to hoist me off on some stuffed shirted noble charmer that quite possibly has wandering hands since he kept looking at my chest," Anora huffed back before she shifted to stand before Alistair. "As for the dance we shall manage. Hold my left hand up to about- not that high, just my shoulder. The other hand goes on my waist...that is not my waist Alistair!"

"Sorry," the sandy haired man said as his face turned red and Anora yanked his hand to the proper spot. Though mildly embarrassed himself he was surprised to see Anora's cheeks had turned a little pink as well. "At least you look nice when you're blushing?"

"Do not be ridiculous," Anora said sternly giving him a fixed look even as she pasted on one of those polite smiles of hers. "We make a slow circle around the room and mostly spin in place for this number. You move first because the man is suppose to lead. Keep your eyes on me and smile. I shall try to direct so we do not crash into anyone."

"Still think you are overreacting to things," Alistair stated as he took a step like Anora said to, trying to do this whole leading thing she had spoken of. "Both to the girl and the older man. How do you live if you are constantly fretting about putting a toe out of line? I mean you are the queen shouldn't you not be caring at that kind of stuff?"

"If I do not mind such things I will not be on the throne long," the blonde woman stated before she cringed as a booted foot stepped on toes encased in slippers. "Alistair mind your feet."

"Sorry, this is harder than it looks," he said as he started to look down to check said feet.

"I said keep your eyes on me. You are over thinking the steps."

Alistair looked back up at her words but gave her an incredulous look. "I'm over thinking? Says the woman that sees political disaster in speaking to a girl too long and dancing with noble men?"

That earned him a pinch from where her hand rested on his arm making Alistair scowl before correcting himself and trying to do that whole neutral look Anora was so good at. He somehow doubted he was doing it any justice when those blue eyes narrowed at him again. "Would you quit with the pinching already? The people you keep worrying about the opinions of are going to start wondering why my arm is black and blue soon enough here."

"When you start behaving as you should," Anora stated, her chin elevating just a touch.

"Well Anora I didn't realize you were such a snob. Maybe we should leave you here in Orlais to be surrounded by your own kin-ow!" Alistair yelped as his toes suddenly got stomped on.

"You were saying dear husband?" Anora asked in a deceptively sweet tone.

Alistair could do nothing but glare for the moment as they executed another turn. "Why that lord fellow insisted on calling you a rose is beyond me."

"Because the Empress decided to call me so," Anroa said with a dismissive tone, obviously not caring for the comparison either. "I find it rather annoying to be compared to some delicate flower because no one remembers that they have thorns as well as beauty."

"Hey, don't dismiss the power of floral arrangements," Alistair commented with a small smile as he remembered Kallian and her reaction when he had given her a rose. The smile faded quickly as he focused on Anora again. "You certainly are not a rose type of girl though."

"Oh really?" the queen asked. There was a moment of struggle before Alistair noted the curious look on her face. "What flower would you compare me to then pray tell?"

He said nothing at first, actually pondering his answer since it got his mind off his aching toes. There was the obvious type of flowers that could be insults like deathroot or that demon weed stuff Morrigan had threatened to put in his food time and again. Alistair found them lacking through as she tried to think through some of the plants he'd heard Kallian and Morrigan discuss around the campfire.

"A daffodil," he said then as he spun them into another turn.

Anora was silent for a moment and Alistair had the pleasure of watching the wheels in her head turn as she no doubt puzzled his choice. "A...daffodil?"

"Sure," he said with a smug look, happy to for once have to explain something to Anora instead of her constantly explaining things to him. He might not have been able to do that aggravating tone of hers justice but he could manage. "Pretty enough but play around with them too much and you get this scaly rash. They also happen to be rather poisonous. And they are common and just impossible enough to make go away if you want something else."

This time the stomp to his foot was far stronger, causing Alistair to let go of Anora completely. Thankfully the music was done and the dancers were leaving the floor after bows and courtesies. Alistair's own bow might have also featured him clenching his foot while bouncing in pain but Anora's was a picture of courtly manners with the exception of the hateful glare in her eyes.

"I hope you end up with such a flower in an uncomfortable place my king," she said between clenched teeth. Alistair wished he could have managed to say such a thing like he was wishing someone a pleasant evening.

"Happily, and hopefully someday you will get those chainmail panties untwisted dear wife," he said instead.

The pair glared at each other for one more moment before Alistair ground his teeth together and offered Anora his arm. She looped her own in it before leading Alistair from the floor. Neither having any illusions about where they stood with the other in matters between them.


	3. Chapter 2: Travel Woes

Chapter 2: Travel Woes

Anora hated travelling. She did it when it was required such as this very trip with needing to be in the processional of The Warden's body. It did not make her like any of it though. She hated being forced to sit as the royal guard and entourage slowly plodded along the highway. She hated sitting for hours with nothing to do that was practical. At best she could chat away the hours or do needlepoint. Since she was disinclined to chatting away with Erlina like some simpering chit and this bleeding carriage jostled too much for needlepoint leaving Anora to make due with staring out into the wilderness.

She scowled though as she spotted the ever familiar sight of a particular yellow flower growing here and there. Alistair's words comparing her to daffodils coming back to poke and prod at her.

"Blighted bastard...Why could Maric not have stayed mourning Cailan's mother for the rest of his years..." she grumbled even as she felt bad for the comment. Maric had been a wonderful person after all and she could remember how big that smile of his got from her and Cailan's antics as children. She found she missed the former king, who always had time to lend her an ear over childish troubles in spite of a busy schedule.

It was a pity neither of his sons seemed to have inherited anything but looks and a streak of childishness from the man. She knew Maric and her father had their differences over some things but Maric had always seemed a caring sort to her.

"Unlike his children..." she mumbled to herself.

"Your highness?" Erlina said from her spot on the other side of the coach, her brows raised and a look of concern on the elf's face.

"Nothing," Anora assured her handmaiden quickly. "Just grumbling about this wretched coach is all. As generous a wedding present from the Empress of Orlais as it is I have to say I miss a sturdy wagon I could stretch my legs out in." As if to prove her point Anora tried to stretch said legs without setting them on the padded seat opposite of her.

Erlina simply grinned and returned to her needlepoint. "It is cozy I will say."

"Cozy? It is barely a step up from cramped. I am grateful that Alistair decided to walk with the guard instead of trying to contort into this space," Anora stated with a disgruntled tone. How she would have stayed seated in this contraption without bumping into Alistair constantly she had no idea. A situation that would no doubt have made the already tense situation between them worse. The pair had barely said two words to each other after that disastrous dance between them. Anora saw no reason to bother speaking with him at length until required, which thankfully was not likely to be until they were safely back behind the walls of Denerim.

"There are worse things than to be trapped in a carriage with a handsome husband no?" Erlina asked as she studied her handiwork for a moment. Anora had to quelch a spurt of jealousy that the elf could not only make such lovely works, but could do so in a moving and jostling carriage with ease. The queen herself could do a bit of needlepoint but was years apart from her handmaiden in it.

"That man is an ogre in disguise," Anora informed with a matter of fact tone. "Bloody daffodils...who tells someone they are like a poisonous plant?"

"Someone who has had enough of said someone jabbing him I suspect," the elf commented with a quiet calming voice that did little to help Anora's simmering anger.

"Erlina you cannot be supporting him in that," the blue eyed queen said in disbelief.

"Support? No I do not support his antics. I feel bad for him though. His life has been uprooted greatly yes? He is not used to nobility and suddenly he is king. He loved another but now is married to someone he knows not. With his grieving is it hard to see he might have a hard time when someone is badgering him to death?"

Anora's eyes narrowed at her maid's words. "You like him," she said in a tone that was almost accusatory.

Erlina merely nodded, not at all upset from her mistress's state. "He is a likeable fellow if you give him a chance. He is quite witty and-"

"Please, I do not wish a list of admirable qualities," Anora said with a dismissive huff as she held up a hand to stall the elf's words. "I am glad you find him so pleasing but honestly the man annoys me to no end and has been nothing but insulting."

Erlina paused in her needlework then to look at Anora with a considering look. "He is annoying and insulting?"

"Yes!" Anora hissed, throwing her hands out in agitation. "He compared me to a bloody daffodil after hearing of the Empress's assessment of me. Said I was poisonous and common. Common! The man eats like a starving pig but I am the common one!"

Erlina said nothing, simply sitting quietly for a moment before turning her attention back to her lap. "You must grant a grace period your highness. You both did not enter into this marriage in the best of circumstances after all. You have not had much chance to get used to each other before this trip no?"

Anora gave a huff as she crossed her arms and looked out the parted curtains again. "We do not require getting used to each other. We knew from the start that this was a political maneuvering. I have the Theirin name and that was all that was required. Now he just needs to understand what will be required of him as being a king in name and we shall have everything handled."

"At least until you two must deal with the issue of the heir no?"

Anora looked at Erlina then feeling her stomach roll for a moment before she opted to look out the curtains again. "Er...yes...until the heir."

The blonde queen wanted to curse Erlina for bringing that particular topic up. It was however a topic that Anora knew would need addressing even as it turned her stomach to think about. The nobility, more than likely lead by Eamon, would be calling for an heir as soon as possible. Not something Anora could argue given what had happened to Cailan. The thought of sleeping with Alistair at the moment was abhorrent and that was if he was even willing. Anora would be having a hard enough time not seeing Cailan without having Alistair call her by someone else's name.

No the heir issue needed to wait at least for a little while longer. It would be better for the both of them to get more settled into their roles as king and queen first before worrying about a prince or princess. If they could have said little one even.

The thought had Anora's hands twisting together in her lap nervously as she did her best to calm her distress. Cailan and her had never managed to have a child in their five years of marriage. She knew very well who people laid the blame on for that. If Alistair followed the same path as his brother Anora did not see how their chances at having a heir would be any better.

And she had no reason to think Alistair would be any different than Cailan in their relationship, such as it was. Not when Kallian had asked Anora about matters regarding mistresses. The queen was not so dense as to not see what the elf had in mind from the start. It was merely bad luck it seemed that the elf had died in the last battle of the Blight, negating any plans she had made. Anora was still not sure if she was relieved about that sudden development, or annoyed because it left her a grief stricken king pining for a dead lover.

The cry of a seagull interrupted the queen's musings. She smelled the sea and could hear the crashing of waves along with the gulls now. A frown crossing her face as she eyed the cliffs outside. The carriage was jostling enough to have Erlina stopping in her needlepoint to look around curiously as well.

"We're not on the highway," Anora said by way of observation and suspicion as she snapped the curtain open. The nearest soldier was fixed with a stern look of displeasure. "You there. Where are we and why have we deviated from our course?"

The soldier did his best to salute while still moving before he answered. "Your majesty, the King redirected us saying that he had some business here in Highever to discuss with the Teyrn."

"He-" the queen started to say before closing her mouth and pulling in a deep breath through her teeth. That bloody bugger had changed their plans without consulting her! Did he have any idea what such delays could do? Not to mention that Highever was hardly in any shape to host royalty. Howe had not been kind to this area when he had sacked the castle and killed the Couslands. The port city was smaller than Denerim but was still a large one that had suffered during the Blight. Admittedly it had suffered from the hands of a wrathful lord more than the darkspawn. Anora could admit she was not sure which one was worse given the lord in question.

She could remember visiting Highever Castle once or twice in her life, mainly when she had been a girl. It had stood since the Divine Age and while a place of tales such as werewolves and the dreaded Witch of the Wilds there had always been a down to earth and homey feel to the place Anora had appreciated. The Couslands themselves wonderful people to be around and obviously well loved by their people for their stalwart but kind ways. People that knew their place and saw to it, even when others thought to place them higher. Anora had hardly been deaf to the whispers that Bryce Cousland and not Cailan should have been sitting on the throne. Bryce at least had been an ardent royalist much to Anora's relief and dismay depending on the situation. She had no idea how the new Teyrn felt on matters given the mess Howe had made and his association with her father.

It was a saddening thing though to see a place formerly grand and full of life to be an empty shell of itself. Anora could feel a pang of sympathy at the loss of home, not to mention loss of life. The moment of sympathy passed quickly as practicality and politics intruded to have her looking at the guard again. "Find his majesty and tell him I wish to speak with him. Now," she ordered, turning to her maid before the armored man even quickened his steps. "Erlina I need everything we have on Highever."

The dark haired elf already was rifling through a pack as her side, quickly pulling out a tome. Of all the things Anora had with them this particular pack rarely left her side or Erlina's. The elf flipped through the pages for a moment before seeming to find the one she required and started to read aloud recent developments with Highever and Teyrn Fergus Cousland. Anora listened, mentally repeating and refreshing her memory on things she would need to know while dealing with the Teyrn.

"You should probably add 'birthplace of Duncan, former Commander of the Grey Warden's in Ferelden to that list," Alistair said from behind her causing Anora to jump a bit from surprise. Those tawny eyes were dancing in amusement as he eyed Erlina with the book and then Anora with a grin. "I was wondering how you managed to seem to know about everything in Ferelden without really trying. I can't say I ever thought prolific note taking and frenzied memorization beforehand ever figured into it."

Anora crossed her arms and gave the man a baleful glare. She could scarcely believe it but the man seemed actually delighted in what he had caused here. "Get in here," she ordered waving a hand to the bench across from her.

Instead Alistair raised his brows and stood there, walking next to the carriage as it rolled on with Garahel on the other side of him panting happily. She might as well have made some comment about the weather. "Alistair," she said in a more sharp tone.

"Isn't that suppose to be your highness or something?"

Anora had to pull in a breath through her nose and gritted teeth and she found herself dearly wishing to strike the man. The last time she had wanted to lay a hand on someone had been when her father dodged around her blunt question about Cailan's death. She had wanted to shake him until he gave her a straight answer, as was his usual manner instead of this evading and secretive thing he had become. "Your highness...would you be so kind as to grant me an audience in this carriage so I might discuss a few things with you in relative privacy," she managed to grind out in relative politeness.

"Well that is a bit better. We should work on getting you to say please next," Alistair commented cheerfully as he stepped up into the cramped compartment and then looking at Erlina expectantly. Anora considered herself lucky the mabari elected to stay outside or it might have ended up in her lap. "You heard the queen there Erlina."

The elf chuckled as she slipped the book and her needlepoint into the pack. "I did indeed your highness. Besides it is getting a little crowded for a small elf girl."

"Erlina you do not have to-" Anora started to say but the elf was already stepping off the slow moving carriage and out of sight. The queen fumed at her maid obeying the king without an order even being issued. She was going to need to remind both of them who was in charge here, starting with Alistair.

With that thought in mind Anora moved about, yanking heavy curtains down to hide them from sight if not block out sound. Alistair simply shifted in his armor, setting Maric's sword and the shield Anora recognized as the aforementioned Duncan's to the side. The space in the carriage had certainly shrank further with the king in the carriage with her. It was difficult to close and secure the thick curtains without bumping into him or being bent over his leg like a child. Not something Anora appreciated in the least and made her mood all the darker. She could almost imagine any number of ridiculous comments careening through Alistair's head about her figure. Something that was simply impossible it seemed for men to ignore when a woman had to bend and precisely why Anora hated that Erlina was shooed from the carriage so quickly. The king started to open his mouth to say something but she decided to simply cut to the heart of matters since there was little time and she was not interested in whatever pleasantries he might have to say. Or any other comments to make her and himself uncomfortable about things when they were already having to sit with their knees knocking each other in this evil contraption.

"What are we doing in Highever?"

"Oh you know, just had to stop by and eat someone else out of their home before going back to plots of world domination," the sandy haired man said with a smile.

"Alistair this is serious!" Anora snapped as loud as she dared. "Do you have any idea the nightmare you have likely visited upon these people? Did you not see the castle on the way? The Teyrn does not even possess a home yet and you have invited yourself and the rest of us in for tea!"

That certainly wiped the happy-go-lucky from the man's demeanor. "Well...um..."

"You cannot just drop in on people as the king," Anora stated as she tried to hold her temper as well as the headache brewing in her skull at bay. "We have servants, the royal guard, not to mention ourselves that any host would be required to provide for. You are putting that requirement on the shoulders of a host that was barely able to attend our coronation over a month ago and his servants, which he might not even have. How is he going to feed all of us if he does not have proper warning to prepare?"

Alistair was scowling now at her words. "I wanted to talk to Fergus about something. It'll take only a few minutes and then we'll be off if you are going to have such a fit over things."

Anora breathed in, cold fingers pressing to her temples for a moment as she reminded herself not to lose her temper at the king. No matter how much she dearly wished to clobber him with a blunt instrument. "The next nearest settlement that could accommodate us would be miles away. We would have to travel through the night to reach it which is taxing on animals and soldiers alike. Unlike you not all of us can march over twenty-five miles a day and still somehow have energy to burn along with a bottomless pit of a stomach."

Alistair frowned at that, looking uncomfortable about her observations. "I'll make an apology to Fergus then and see if maybe some of us can't pitch it around here. We have rations and tents after all. We can manage and I'm sure we can fix things with the Teyrn."

Anora wished she could be so optimistic about things. As it was though there was little she or he could do in this mess Alistair had started. "Why do you keep calling the Teyrn Fergus? When precisely did you meet him and become so chummy as to be on a first name basis?"

Alistair smiled at her question. "Jealous I don't need a book to remember names? We met at the coronation formally and Ostagar before that. He just about fell over in Denerim trying to stay standing and converse with me. I had him sit before he made his wounds worse since getting stomped on by an ogre is not exactly something anyone can just walk away from. We shared some of the better memories about Ostagar and he said I could visit him in Highever anytime to discuss a monument. Suppose he thought much as you did, instead of how I did about that statement."

The whole story had Anora looking at Alistair as if he had grown another head before the former warden became self conscious and shifted in his seat again. "You can stop looking so shocked now. I do know how to have a civilized conversation without someone there to translate or restate my words for etiquette's sake."

"I do not-"

There was a horn blast sounded through the air then and an answering call was heard further off. Anora mentally cursed because that meant they were far closer than she had thought originally. Trying to improvise for lack of time to actually fix her appearance Anora tried to stand in order to shake out her skirt and smooth wrinkles from sitting in the carriage a long time.

"Anora would you sit down before-"

As if on cue for Alistair's words the carriage hit a bump that had Anora being bounced up and into the roof. Two very unladylike swears falling from her mouth as her hands clapped onto her skull and she fell forward from carriage continuing to rock about due to poor roads. A pair of hands caught her waist, tugging her down onto a metal clad lap as she heard Alistair grumble about stubborn women not knowing what was good for them.

One blue eye cracked open as Anora hissed, her skull throbbing from the impact with the ceiling support. She prodded the area gently, worried about blood or a goose egg forming. It was hard to look though without a mirror and certainly not with the carriage bouncing like a child's plaything. The arm around her waist tightened some causing her own hands to drop to it for worry that the chainmail or plates would catch on her dress and rip it. Meeting a Teyrn in a rag was certainly not a welcome experience.

Finally the coach stopped rattling about, evening out as it hit the roads in in the city proper. The arm around Anora's waist did not ease though causing her to give Alistair a censorious look. He was not paying attention though instead studying her head for a moment. She heard a rattle and felt him shift, moving her some but still not letting her up or out of his hold.

"What are you doing?" she asked now in a snippish tone.

"Relax I'm just checking your head for you," Alistair replied evenly. Anora opened her mouth to tell him not to bother, mental pictures of him mangling her head and hair with a metal gauntlet leaping to mind. Before she could say anything though she could feel fingers carefully probing, petting the hair down after shifting it about.

She stayed right where she was, sitting on his lap and feeling painfully awkward suddenly with a husband she did not even like checking her over for injury as the carriage moved on. The smell of steel, leather, and some earthy scent tickling her nose from how she sat curled and caught against a plate covered chest.

"Well, besides rattling what brains you possess I believe you shall make a full recovery without any unsightly scarring," Alistair said then, dropping his hand from her head as his arm eased to allow Anora up. "Next time just stay in your seat until the carriage stops. You can fix your skirts then if you insist on it. People can wait a minute for royalty I'm told."

"Royalty should be prompt," Anora stated in a superior tone as she gave Alistair a withering look. "Making people wait is rude enough for common courtesy, not to mention how unseemly it is for a ruler."

"Hmm," Alistair commented, instead of looking amused for reasons beyond Anora's knowledge. "You're looking awfully red there by the way."

What? She was not red? Why would she be red? What on earth was the man talking about? She was a little warm in this stuffy box of a transport but that was expected. "Do not be foolish," she said in an aggravated tone as she removed herself to the other bench like she should be instead of on the man's lap like some common tavern wench.

"Well there's no reason to be embarrassed. There was only me in here to see you and I can't say I wouldn't have ended up doing the same thing while trying to adjust my armor from stabbing me in uncomfortable places," Alistair pointed out.

"I am not embarrassed," Anora huffed. She certainly was not in any way upset about matters. So she hit her head, it was not unheard of...even if she was suppose to be a picture of grace and perfection...which she had not been.

Alistair looked her over with a puzzled eye. "You don't have to be perfect you know. You're the queen after all. You can just wave your hand like you do and make bashing your head in a coach fashionable or something."

That had blue eyes blinking at Alistair. He really thought being a queen or a king was that simple? Just wave your hand and everything would be forgiven for a moment of weakness? That people would not jump on matters and use them to erode your support, saying you were not fit to rule because of something as small as a moment not thinking of where you were at. Not to mention any issues with people such as assassins and spies that might take advantage of such things?

"It is truly a wonder to me Alistair that you manage to go through this life with such an attitude," Anora stated with a shake of her head before she turned to look out the curtain. "And I believe we have arrived at our destination. I hope you have your excuses and reasons prepared for the Teyrn. We are likely to be telling them multiple times tonight."

Alistair rolled his eyes at her now. "It will be fine, you'll see. Just relax and leave everything to me."

"Alistair I would not leave you in charge of making tea in the morning," Anora stated in a disgruntled tone causing the former warden to pout a bit while she turn to stare out of the curtains and ignore him.

Fergus was there to greet them as the carriage pulled to a stop in front of one of the larger homes in Highever. Alistair was quick to get out of the carriage, not caring for it anymore than Anora did. He started to step forward to greet the Teyrn before remember he should probably wait for the wife and hand her down. Why she couldn't hop out of things by herself and constantly needed to be handed down was beyond Alistair's ability to comprehend. He waited though and extended his hand like he was suppose to while wondering if he could let go and have her fall face first in the mud.

There had been a moment there in the carriage he had thought she might be more human under that icy hide then he gave her credit for. She had however been quick to prove him wrong and retain her bitchy self. It was an aggravating thing really that every time Alistair tried to write her off there would be these little behaviors that pointed at Anora being a bit more human than she behaved. They never lasted but they were there if you looked.

He was getting very tired of looking.

Still, she had been right about his untimely visit. Alistair had honestly not thought this visit through completely when he shifted their plans. It made him wonder if maybe he was going about some things wrong and hurting instead of helping.

Maybe he should sit down and seriously consider this whole king deal more.

With that in mind he gave Fergus a rueful look. "I know we are kind of dropping in on you here and I must offer my apologies for not giving notice. I had forgotten that I'm a king that's actually allowed into castles with rooms now and not a fugitive having to stay in stables and woods anymore."

He could feel Anora's disapproval again and her glare from his words, making light of the situation instead of the serious offense she saw it as.

Fergus seemed to take things in stride though as he smiled and bowed. Or tried to bow anyway, there was an old woman standing next to him that thumped her cane and grunted at him, causing Fergus to straighten as he held his side. "I think we can forgive, provided you will not hold my breech in conduct against me."

Anora started to open her mouth but Alistair cut her off. "Excellent! So since we are throwing out the proverbial etiquette and polite society rulebook on those fronts I have to say I'm all for just throwing it out for the time of our visit here. We can go back to it when the rest of the nobility comes pounding down the door."

Fergus chuckled even as Anora looked at the two like they were conspiring to commit a theft. "I could do with a visit from a friend instead of a king. Come on in then, we might not have much but as my mother would say, there is always room for friends," the Teyrn said as he turned around, heading back into the house.

Alistair turned to Anora with a smug smile and a bow to indicate her to proceed him. "Problem solved," he stated though he mentally added without your interference.

Anora fixed him with a look before raising her chin to a haughty angle and stepping forward. Alistair had to roll his eyes at it even as he squelched the urge to grab her nose and pull her chin down. Honestly sometimes he wondered who would have won the bitch contest between Anora and Morrigan. There were days he was sure it was a draw or Anora coming out on top.

Alistair turned, speaking with his guard captain to coordinate with Fergus's to find warm places for the night for everyone else. He did not doubt that Fergus would have him and Anora stay in the house with him. The place certainly did not look big enough for all the troops though. The inns, taverns, and boarding houses were going to be full to bursting quite likely but they would all manage. Alistair might not have known the region and it's attitude very well but he felt he knew Fergus well enough to recognized a good man and a benevolent host.

He turned to head into the house just as Anora gave a startled shriek. Alistair's hands reached for weapons as he moved quicker before stopping himself, both from drawing the weapons and from laughing out loud.

The old woman that had accompanied Fergus had stayed in her spot after the Teyrn's retreat. At first Alistair thought she was trying to beat Anora with her cane. While he might have cheered the old one on at that but it was something of an offense to beat the Queen of Ferelden...no matter how much she might have earned it. Instead he realized that she was simply shaking her stick at the queen, saying something in a language Alistair did not recognize. Animal bones and stones clattering loudly as she moved about.

As Alistair pulled up next to Anora the old woman's gaze fixed on him. Yellow eyes looking him over critically and in a manner that reminded Alistair strongly of Morrigan. Unlike Anora though who got a large amount of stick shaking he only got a few before the woman seemed satisfied. She looked from one royal to the other before giving a sniff and walking off into the house.

"What in the world was that about and who in the Maker's name is that?" Anora asked the minute the woman started walking away.

Alistair did his best not to look vastly amused by things though from Anora's usual icy look he was failing at it. "She looks Chasind. Off the top of my head I would say she thinks you are either bad luck or an evil spirit."

"Wha-" Anora managed to get out looking completely flabbergasted. "Of all the nerve!"

Alistair simply shrugged as he took Anora's arm to lead her into the house. "That's the Chasind. They're a very superstitious lot. Fergus might know more if you are interested as I'm afraid my dealings with them were very limited."

"Oh I have a few things to ask," Anora said in a peevish tone. "Barbarians in Highever accosting innocent people. What are they doing here in the first place? They should be down in the Wilds with their own kind, not among good Maker fearing folk."

Alistair ran his tongue over his teeth, he after all was well aware of why there was Chasind in Highever. Obviously Anora had not heard the story of things though. He wrestled for a moment over if he should warn her about making such remarks to Fergus but it was quickly rejected. This was something of a show he really looked forward to watching. He might even take notes so he could give them to Anora later for that book of hers.

The house was spartan in its furnishings as a footman showed the royal couple to a parlor. Fergus was soon to follow with an easy smile on his face before he waved them to a couple of worn chairs. "She is not much I am afraid but the house was sound and the owners were not coming back...unfortunately," he told them, dark brown eyes full of sorrow for a moment for the departed.

"A tragedy for such a fine home," Anora stated as she took a seat. "I am sure they would be happy to know it is being used by their lord at least, even for as strange of house guests as the Chasind."

The Teyrn rose a brow as a maid came in with a tray of tea and sweets for them. "The Chasind do not stay here. They prefer their own dwellings on the edge of the city, which suits everyone since there are a number of people who dislike them being here."

"Really? I cannot possibly imagine why when you have old women shaking sticks at you like you are a common hound about to get a beating and frightening good people out of their wits," Anora said with a disgruntled air as she accepted a cup from the maid.

Alistair said nothing, opting to take a scone. Eating might keep him from commenting or giving away his amusement at things.

Fergus certainly did not look angry yet as his brows drew low in puzzlement. "I am assuming you mean the old woman who was outside with me. Zanta is...a healer among them of a sort. Not a mage, just a woman that knows traditions and herbs and takes care of their wounded and ill."

"Very admirable when not attempting to assault people," Anora replied as she took a sip of tea before continuing. "When will you be sending them back to the Wilds?"

Fergus calmly accepted a cup from the maid before giving her a smile and sending her off with a word of thanks that Alistair noted included the girl's name (which happened to be Jill) before looking to Anora. "Never," he answered simply before taking a sip of tea.

Ah this had been completely worth it just to see the shocked and appalled look on Anora's face. Fergus could have stated he had darkspawn over for dinner and probably would not have gotten as funny a reaction. Alistair had to stuff his scone in his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, which was difficult because he did want to choke either and draw attention to himself.

"What do you mean 'Never'?" Anora asked.

"I mean I am never sending them back to the Wilds," Fergus elaborated just as coolly as he had answered the original question. "The Wilds have been devastated by the Blight much like Bann Whulff's territories. The tribes that reside there, if they went back at all, are going to be fighting over resources and land. That fighting is likely to spill over into Ferelden as well. Building bridges with the Chasind people is going to be difficult but might be sped up if we have someone that knows a thing or two about the tribes, all their various customs, and who to watch out for."

Now it was apparently Alistair's turn to stare dumbfounded at the Teyrn's words. He could feel crumbs falling out of his open mouth even as he watched Anora adopt a considering air. The wheels in her head obviously turning. It was good his mouth was full of food or the former warden might have pouted in disappointment.

Lucky for Alistair, Anora was not the type to just leave something that might have consequences across Ferelden lie. Even more so when it was suspicious foreigners like the barbarians.

"You are trusting these...Chasind to actually help us if, and that is a large if, their sister tribes start trouble in the south?" she asked still sounding critical of the whole debacle.

Fergus merely nodded, "I do trust the Chasind I have here in Highever. They have been nothing but helpful and good to me and mine since I met them. Even if my fears about the south prove untrue I would have this particular tribe here with me instead of starving in the Wilds."

"And you do not think that having suspect barbarians with reputations for thievery and lies being mixed in with your household is something that might have been best avoided?" Anora asked sounding shocked, "I am surprised your people have not risen up to complain about matters."

That had Fergus glaring and Alistair wanting to cackle into his own tea. "No, my people have not had a single issue with matters that I have not been able to set them right on. In fact the only one who has shown any dissatisfaction about the arrangement is sitting in my parlor drinking my tea and bad mouthing the people responsible for my rescue and survival after I was seriously injured fighting for our home. Perhaps she needs to rethink her words for a while since obviously the trip here has taxed her far more than she thought." The words were all very calm, neutral, and otherwise impossible to tell he was angry about something. Alistair knew better though because the look he was giving Anora might have killed lesser men.

For her part Anora was also keeping a completely blank and unconcerned air. There was not a hint of distress or abashment from matters in her face though Alistair thought she might have gone rigid in her spine some.

After a tense moment she leaned forward, setting her teacup down on the tray with a clack as she stood. "I think you are right Teyrn Cousland. I think I will go rest and see you both at dinner," she said carefully with a polite bow of her head to the pair before sailing away.

Alistair relaxed more now that Anora was gone, leaning back in his seat happily. "Thought she would never leave."

Right away he realized he had misstepped somewhere because Fergus immediately transferred his look of ire onto Alistair who started to squirm in his seat and feel like he was six years old and caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The teyrn stood up, setting his cup down before grabbing Alistair's and doing the same. "Why don't we take a walk your highness? Give you a chance to stretch those legs after being cooped up in a carriage all day."

He thought very much about arguing that he had actually been walking all day. Alistair recognized the order in the tone and while part of him thought to play the card of being king he decided against it. For one thing he respected Fergus too much to do such a thing and secondly he valued the man's friendship. With all his friends from the Blight divided up and attending to rebuilding in other places Alistair knew he needed a friend, or he might go crazy from the mess his life was currently.

The king was mindful to adjust his stride to Fergus's notably slower one. The Teyrn was in good health and could move but he was still recovering from some injuries, even all this time after Ostagar. The darker haired man also lead the way, opting to leave home and people behind for the cliffs nearby.

"It is far easier to think when you are removed from the hustle and bustle of things," Fergus stated though Alistair had not asked. "Maybe it will help you clear your own head so you can think about what you just did."

"I didn't do anything though," the former warden stated.

"And that would be the problem. You did nothing," Fergus replied evenly before the pair stopped and he planted himself on a rock, rubbing his right knee as if it hurt. "I know I told you about the situation here. It never occurred to me you would not tell Anora about it."

"She never asked, and frankly when she was all insulted about matters here I figured it was better to let you educate her," Alistair pointed out. "Besides, she needs to be brought down a peg or two I think."

Fergus gave him another of those looks that made Alistair feel six again. Really the man had that look down to a science. "Things are not going well then between the pair of you then?"

"Were they expected too?" the ex-warden replied as he folded his arms across his chest. "Frankly she's a nagging bitch who really just needs to get her knickers untwisted. How Cailan managed to stand it for five years is beyond me."

"Probably because he was neither around enough nor required nagging. Cailan grew up into his role and knew what was expected of him by the time he was sixteen likely. Most of the higher nobility grow up like that. We're groomed from the cradle onward and certain things are expected at each age even though we are chosen instead of inheriting titles," Fergus pointed out.

"That wasn't suppose to make me feel better was it?" Alistair asked before he started pacing restlessly. He was really sick of constantly hearing how poorly trained he was for this situation. First from Anora and now from Fergus!

"No it is not," the darker man agreed. "It is meant to try and knock sense into that head of yours."

"Blast it not you too," Alistair groaned as he covered his ears for a moment as if to shut out noise. "Can I not suffer a lecture on politics for at least one day? I promise Anora gave me one already on the road. Everyday in fact and before that it was Eamon riding me about things. Can we just accept that I'm no good at them and move on?"

"I would not have brought it up if I did not see a serious problem Alistair, I certainly do not enjoy dealing with politics any more than you do. I prefer problems I can stick a sword into honestly," Fergus confessed before shaking his head. "However you threw Anora under the proverbial cart there and that is not something to be taken lightly."

"Can I get that to be a real cart?"

"Alistair!"

"Alright, alright! I'll never do it again! I'll sit quietly and just report everything to her royal bitchiness like a good tin soldier," Alistair snapped, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

Fergus gave an exasperated sigh as he crossed his own arms. "Do you even know what exactly you did wrong?"

"Apparently I had too much fun at the beloved despot's expense?"

Fergus dropped his head onto his palm for a minute and chuckled. Sometimes Alistair strongly reminded the Teyrn of his little brother, who had a habit of always having funny comebacks to things as well. "Alistair what lead to the army being annihilated at Ostagar?"

"Loghain being a backstabbing traitor," Alistair stated with a low and hateful tone.

"Right, and Loghain was what exactly?"

Tawny colored eyes narrowed in impatience as the king crossed his arms again. "Fergus I really don't see where you are going with this."

"Ostagar fell because of divided leadership. Yes it's an oversimplification of matters but it is the truth. The division was there and many felt it even before the battle. That is what you are now, like it or not you and Anora are the leaders of Ferelden. Because of that, division between the two of you will be felt by the people. Showing such division by stunts like what you just pulled can be disastrous." Fergus grinned a bit as he eyed Alistair, "In other words, you pulled a tactic from Loghain's book of backstabbing. Congratulations."

"That's not funny Fergus," Alistair said with a scowl.

"I am not being funny. Running a country is not much different from warfare if you think about it. You two are the generals with the rest of nobility being something of your officers, merchants are quartermasters, and all the way down to the lowest scout. When you and The Warden were building the army up to face the archdemon you took care of all of them correct? Resolved issues and made it a point to be a unified front to everyone did you not?"

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck, feeling uncomfortable about matters now. "Kinda, I left most of that in Kallian's hands honestly."

Fergus rose a brow at that, looking disbelieving. "And you were completely alright with every single decision she made?"

The sandy haired king fumbled for an answer to that one. He thought of all the arguments he and Kalli had gotten into about matters. Usually after the matter because Kalli would make the decisions in the field and that would be that. The last one of them fighting about...well themselves...that one stuck out in Alistair's mind painfully. "Not...all of them... There might have been a few things I disagreed with or thought we were wasting time on..."

"Did you argue any of those right there before the decision was made?"

Now Alistair looked at Fergus like he was crazy. "And have things attacking us while we argued about matters? I'm sure that would have been a brilliant matter."

Fergus smiled, "Dealing with nobles is much the same, be they Ferelden or foreigners, good men or tyrants. If they see or feel a rift in leadership they will exploit that to their own ends. They might be good for short term, or even for their specific bannorn, but as rulers you and Anora need to have a grander view than most banns or arls."

"Or teyrns?" Alistair asked feeling spiteful.

That had Fergus laughing again. "Yes even teyrns. I am well aware I go in that list too."

"So you want me to...cuddle up with Anora here and be some lovey dovey couple?" Alistair asked sounding completely horrified of the idea.

"I did not say that," Fergus pointed out. "The relationship between the pair of you is your own. In public though and in concerns to matters of Ferelden and dealing with others as royals you are going to need to at least be a united front there."

Alistair really did not like the idea but he had to admit that Fergus had a point. Kallian had pointed out much the same once when Alistair had been at his wits end with Morrigan. How many times had he wanted to conveniently forget her on a battlefield somewhere? Or Zevran for that matter who he had wanted to strangle a number of times out of a mild jealous streak? Maybe if he had learned better from those experiences, learned to deal with even those he hated, Kallian might still be alive and Loghain's soul destroyed from the archdemon.

"If I might give one other small piece of advice though..." Fergus asked making Alistair groan before the king waved a hand for the teyrn to continue. "Anora and you are going to be dealing with each other for the rest of your lives, including needing to have a child together. You may have your differences but if you both do not come to an accord between the two of you personally, you are going to build the Black City around each other."

Alistair scowled but did not argue the point, he knew it was another one Fergus was correct on. Anora might have been able to go forth and pretend nothing in the world was wrong but Alistair would never be able to master that particular ability. "She's not exactly making it easy you know?"

"I do not doubt it. Considering what I have heard rumor wise though from other nobles, servants, and soldiers; she has reasons for her behaviors. Reasons she is not keen on sharing with anyone obviously. You will have to brave the dragon's den to find them out and smooth things over between you two."

The king sighed, running a hand over his short hair again. "Suppose it can't be much more difficult than killing Flemeth."

Fergus gave Alistair a funny look as if the man claimed the sky was purple with pink spots. "I shall have to take your word for that. Now, how about you tell me the real reason you stopped by and turned my household on it's head?"

Anora hated apologizing. Doing so usually meant you had made a mistake, which Anora despised making. It was even worse in this case because things had obvious political ramifications. This made it a Maker spoken mandate that she had to humble herself and apologize for her comments and actions.

She was the Queen of Ferelden, she should never have to apologize for something as petty as insulting a noble. The problem was this particular noble had some sway in the country.

Not to mention she did feel like a heel for matters...

As was the ways of boys she found both the Teyrn and her husband out on the practice field. She had to stop for a moment to shake her head as she watched Alistair easily manage four new recruits without breaking a sweat. All of this after walking most of the way to Highever? She was again at a loss of where he got the stamina for all of these rigorous physical tasks. She could only suspect it was the same thing that caused his monstrous appetite whenever they sat down for a meal.

Fergus it seemed was sitting this bout out on a nearby bench, calling out order and encouragement to the green soldiers in equal measure she noticed as she stepped closer. The Teyrn was quick to pick up on a visitor and looked up curiously before giving a polite nod. "Recovered from your journey your majesty?" he asked politely. "I would stand but I'm afraid my injuries are bothering me so I have been order to stay in my seat by your husband."

"That was certainly kind of him," Anora said. She already felt at a loss again thanks to Alistair's insistent ignoring of etiquette. "And he offered to do battle with a number of your soldiers?"

"In part," Fergus admitted. "They were doing drills and kept looking over to us because of the stories circulating about the King. He said if they beat him in the sparring ring then he would answer their questions as to truths behind said tales. So far I think they will be deprived, I am fairly certain none of them have even managed to land a hit on his armor."

Anora made a considering sound. One thing she had to admit was that unlike Cailan she doubted she would ever worry about Alistair in a combat setting. The man survived Ostagar, the Battle of Denerim, and who knew how many other blood bathes during the Blight, not to mention being a former Grey Warden. It all pointed to Alistair not likely being someone killed easily.

The thought of Ostagar reminded Anora why she had sought the pair out...or more specifically Fergus. "I wanted to apologize for my earlier words. You were right I must have been tired."

Brown eyes glanced at the queen with a look of obvious disbelief. Anora had to sigh as she realized that Fergus of all the people left in Ferelden, was likely to know exactly how not tired she was from being stuck in a carriage all day.

"What I mean is," she said, hoping to cut off anymore discontent from the Teyrn. "I spoke poorly of your rescuers when I should be thankful to them instead. You are the last of one of our oldest families and one of our best leaders. Losing you would have been a blow to Ferelden."

Fergus was silent which had Anora twisting her fingers together nervously and having to resist the urge to look at her feet like a child. Besides the fingers she simply held herself rigid and kept her focus straight ahead like a good soldier might have.

"Why don't you join me your highness?" Fergus asked then as he shifted over to make room for Anora on the bench. The queen was at a loss of what to do and gave a dubious look. Fergus had not accepted her apology yet so odds were high he might insist on a token for his forgiveness. Still she sat careful, perched like any lady on her seat.

"I do not hold your words against you. Not many are well informed on how I came to have Chasind in my lands," Fergus told her. "So no apology is needed. Since you feel the need to do so though I'm going to ask for you to do something."

Anora bristled at the thought, ready to verbally shred the Teyrn for such impertinence. She was cut off though as Fergus raised a hand. "All I ask, is that you talk to your husband."

"That...is the strangest request I have ever heard. I talk to the King everyday," Anora pointed out in irritation. She had no idea what Fergus was playing at here but if it had to do with Alistair it could not have been something good. The ex-warden being mixed in anything political could not be anything but bad for Anora and that was unlikely to change...ever.

"I did not say talk to the king. I said talk to your husband," Fergus stated before gesturing to the sparring ring. "Do you even know anything about him? Things he's gone through or is interested in? Surely someone as smart as you would realize the advantages of having someone like Alistair in your corner?"

"I know a large number of disadvantages I have from him being in my corner as you put it," Anora said in a grumpy tone. "Not the least of which is sharing a number of traits with his brother."

"Alistair is not Cailan though Anora. Measuring him by the same stick or discounting him would not be wise and as I'm sure you know already you will both have to come to some kind of truce between you two."

"I was unaware we were at war," Anora said looking mutinous now. She had no idea what all Alistair had said to the Teyrn but clearly there needed to be a discussion about things between them. She would see to it tomorrow on the road, Erlina could walk for awhile and Alistair and her could converse in the carriage.

"In that case you best negotiate a peace quickly," Fergus stated with a knowing air. "I know I could never read Oriana's mind and she could never read mine either. I never relished having to check my tea for poisons though."

"Poisons?" Anora asked sounding aghast.

"She was Antivan," Fergus replied with a smile and a light in his eyes at the fond memories, that statement expected to be enough to explain matters. It was not long though before the light went out and the smile slipped.

"Did I ever tell you how sorry I was for all you lost your grace?" Anora asked as she honestly tried to remember.

"More than likely. You are ever a soul of the polite and proper your majesty."

"Well...I am very sorry for your losses Fergus. I can not imagine..." Anora trailed off though because part of her could far too easily imagine it. Her father might not have died at Ostagar but the man that returned from that massacre had not been the man she knew and her husband had not come back at all.

"We have all suffered losses," Fergus said in a tone full of pain. "And we shall suffer the scars of the Blight for years to come I am sure. I do not agree with anything your father did during the Blight that I have heard but there was one thing I heard he stated that does ring true."

"What's that?" Anora asked, surprised to hear anyone say something about agreeing with her father.

"There are those that will take advantage of a weakened Ferelden. Militarily, economically, politically, or even personally." Fergus gave her a concerned look then, though for the safety of his homeland or out of concern for her Anora could not tell. "In order to strengthen our homes though we will have to strengthen ourselves first. We are the foundation and the rest are the blocks of a castle."

"Your father use to say that," Anora said with a smile remembering Bryce Cousland clearly and fondly.

****"A great man that did not deserve his fate," Fergus said, his heart breaking in his eyes. "And one I hope you and your husband will keep from anyone else ever suffering from a fellow countrymen's hands again."


	4. Chapter 3: Negotiations

Chapter 3: Negotiations

Fergus's words were still there days later as Anora climbed back into the hated carriage. Her skinny boot heels stabbing into the wood with sharp clicks as she settled into her seat and looked out at Alistair, who had handed her up, and Erlina, who was about to climb in.

"Your highness would you come and sit. I have some things I would like to discuss with you in relative comfort and privacy," she said coming just short of ordering. Erlina blinked in some surprise but Anora gave her a nod of dismissal. The elf simply returned it and moved off to join a wagon that held most of the royal luggage and a few servants Anora trusted to care for things.

"I'm sure you could have let Erlina stay if you wanted," Alistair said as he swung up into the carriage, without an argument this time as it started to move. He was dressed in armor and boots to march with the men as he no doubt would eventually. Anora was struck again by the size of him in the armor. Though she knew this set was technically smaller than her deceased husband's gaudy golden armor, however men in heavy armor always ended up looking so much bigger and taking up far too much space.

"She is not required so she can rest with the other servants while we speak of some personal matters," Anora stated as she shifted in her seat, attempting to give Alistair more room while still being comfortable herself. It proved to be something of an impossibility though as she twisted this way and that.

Alistair seemed to have far less trouble as he pulled off his gauntlets, setting them next to his sword and shield. "Personal matters? I was rather under the impression there was no such thing for a king and queen, just matters of state." He frowned then, watching her try and pull her legs up onto the padded bench that was simply too narrow for what she wished. "Here, love of Andraste," he grumbled as he reached over and grabbed one ankle in a wide palmed hand. He twisted her on her butt as she squeaked in protest, shocked at being man handled in such a manner. Alistair did not seem to even notice as he caught her other leg and lifted both feet onto his lap. One sandy colored brow arching as he saw her boots. "How do you women even stand in these things?" he asked as he studied the horribly impractical heels for a moment before turning his attention back to Anora.

"Practice," Anora commented, "And you are trying to avoid the subject. I swear you are so much like your brother at times it is disturbing."

"And you are so like your father I expect to have a knife in my back any second since we are on the subject of obvious relations," Alistair threw back at her even as he settled, Anora's feet perched on his thigh.

Anora glanced at the heavy curtains nervously, certainly this was not a position she wanted to be caught in. She supposed it was a foolish worry given that she and Alistair were married but the thought still sat ill at ease on her, even if she was far more comfortable this way than she had been before. "I did not invite you in here to argue about respective relatives," she stated with blue eyes flashing in anger she held in check. "I wanted to discuss our duties and make sure you understand them and what is required of you."

"I think I can figure it out Anora," Alistair stated.

Anora completely ignored him though as she raised gloved hands to start counting on her fingers. "Number one: You are to be on time for all functions and dressed appropriately. I am sure you can manage that. Number two: You are not to drop in on nobles without warning, also something I believe you can manage now. Number three: You are to inform me of any matters pertaining to the nobility or Ferelden. Number four: You are not to make any decisions or proclamations without me allowing it and-"

"Hold it," Alistair said holding up his hand to stop Anora's list. "Not make any decisions without you allowing it?"

For those that knew Alistair, they would have recognized the tone as a particularly bad one. It was dry with just a bit of snip to tell someone he was not happy with them. Anora however had never heard the tone out of him and as such did not think twice of it.

"Yes, you have already caused enough problems between Amaranthine to the Grey Wardens and making an elf a Bann. I am going to be doing some serious work to-"

"Clean up my mess?" Alistair supplied and this time there was no missing the steel in his voice as he cut Anora off. She blinked in surprise at his tone even as she saw the anger in his face. "Because obviously I had no idea what I was doing when I gave the people and order of a beloved hero recognition they deserved."

"Recognition? Alistair you gave them-"

"I know damn well what I did Anora," Alistair snapped out then.

Anora was completely taken aback by everything. Cailan had certainly never taken that tone with her ever in his life. When they had talked it had been rational discussions with Cailan asking questions and then coming around to seeing her point. Her father might have gotten more prone to emotional outbursts from time to time but even he had usually discussed things rationally for all his passion about things like the Orlesians.

Obviously following Fergus's request had been a poor idea. If Alistair knew she disapproved he could make it far more difficult for her to combat his blunders. She had not been aware that he possessed more temper than Cailan. She had been attributing that bite to grief for the past month but now she was starting to wonder if it was just how Alistair was and had somehow been missed when Cailan spoke of him.

"This was a mistake," she muttered under her breath as she straightened and started to remove her feet from the King's lap. Instead she yelped as Alistair's hand clamped down just above her ankles, holding them trapped. Blue eyes got wider as he almost yanked her completely off her seat, leaving her having to hold the bench with her hands or risk her butt landing hard on the carriage floor.

"You are going to stay right there and listen to me," Alistair ordered with far more authority than Anora ever heard him use when giving those decrees she had issue with. "Giving the Wardens an arling ensures that they will always be allowed in Ferelden and we never again have the issue of having next to none. It also makes it treason for a noble, any noble, or a king to slaughter them instead of being a literal grey area. Sure I'm running the risk of there being another Commander like Sophia Dryden in power, but I'll take that over Ferelden forgetting that they need wardens as much as any other nation again. Not after this country almost got annihilated from one man's refusal to believe that maybe there are things that Ferelden just can't handle on it's own. I am not about to let that same stubborn pride and paranoia stand in the way from his daughter either."

Anora forced herself to swallow as she hoped it would moisten a throat gone dry. "The elves-"

"Were a situation that should have been fixed Ages ago," Alistair said with a stubborn set of his jaw. "Surely you with all your notes about what happens in your own kingdom and with an elven maid know the kind of mess the Alienage is. I'm appalled that you haven't done anything about it in your five years already sitting on the throne."

"It's a delicate matter-"

"It's not a political matter!" Alistair yelled at her. "It's a matter of basic dignity and being able to live your life without fear! Do you have any idea the conditions they live in? What they go through? Have you ever been inside those walls? Have you!?"

Anora was silent at the accusation in his tone. She could remember time and again Cailan trying to visit the Alienage. It had however always remained the one place in the kingdom neither she nor he had dared walk through. Why should they with the Arl of Denerim assuring them there was no growing issues with the elves. They were after all, part of the city and as such overseen by Urien Kendalls and she had other more important matters to deal with than elves.

Alistair released her then, sitting back and crossing his arms as her boots clicked to the floor. "The bannship for the elves stays," he said. His tone allowing no argument and no leeway in the matter.

"Alistair you can not be serious, the nobility is not going to tolerate an elven Bann. Citizens are not going to tolerate, even the Chantry might weigh in on this," Anora pointed out. Her concern about this particular situation had her wanting to shake sense into the man. Her palms positively itched to do so.

"I don't care. I'm the king and one of our people from the Alienage died so we could rebuild. She had every reason to just move her people out and leave the rest of us to rot. Instead she died saving us. The least we can do is take care of those she left behind."

"There are better ways to do it than handing over a title and making waves Alistair," Anora stated firmly.

"In that, I'm afraid we shall always differ in opinion Anora."

The blonde woman pulled in a deep breath fighting for patience and calm even as she wanted to pull her hair out in frustration of the man. "Our duty is not to-"

"Our duty, as you like to pull out so often, is to help Ferelden grow into a strong nation. We can't do that with politics and worrying about everyone's opinion of us," Alistair stated with a scowl. "If Kallian taught me anything about leading it was that not everyone will ever agree with how you do things. But if you sit around waiting and negotiating things forever then eventually it won't matter anymore."

Anora raised a hand to rub at her temple now, her head starting to pound from matters. "This is hardly the Blight where we need strong and decisive choices right away Alistair."

"From what I've seen there are no other kinds of choices in life except hard ones that require a person to be strong and decisive."

Anora had to agree with that statement. Certainly in her life there was a shortage of easy choices or times she was not required to be the strong and decisive one. Cailan certain had not possessed the ability to be so and any kingdom was only as strong as it's king. That lead her to an interesting question for her mind to give her.

How strong was Alistair?

_Not strong enough_, she told herself. Even as she told herself that she would need to be mindful of his temper as she maneuvered around him in the future. She might have needed his name to keep the nobles at bay and to hopefully produce an heir, but she did not need his help running the nation anymore more than there needed to be an elven bann to handle the issues in the Alienage.

"Well then...let the strong, decisive, and sensible rule,"she stated with an inclination of her head, as if she was bowing to Alistair's stance though reality was very different.

Tawny eyes narrowed before Alistair returned the nod slowly. "I prefer strong and decisive who will always do what's right over what's sensible."

Anora's nose wrinkled as if she smelled something foul then. It seemed her negotiations with Alistair were a failure since their battle lines were still clearly drawn on this particular field of battle. Part of Anora envied Alistair's naive view of how things worked for such idealism could maybe have once changed the world with a strong enough will behind it. She knew it would only be a matter of time though until he became bored, or running the kingdom became a hassle and he did not want to do it anymore. She just had to wait until that point, and make sure he did not destroy Ferelden while she waited for it.

"Was there anything else you wanted to discuss...wife?" Alistair asked then, sounding as grumpy about the conversation as Anora felt.

"Yes but it will wait until we return to matters with cooler heads," she stated. After all they still had to discuss how to go about a heir and she doubted they were done with the discussion about Amaranthine or the Alienage.

Alistair gave a polite nod as he shifted one way and Anora another. The King quick to drop out of the carriage and get away from his wife as much as she was happy to have the space to herself for a time so she could recover from the conversation.

She only had a few minutes though in reality before Erlina hopped up into the carriage. Anora eyed the elf suspiciously because she had a feeling her maid had really just walked along side the carriage and listened in on the conversation as much as she could.

"Did you have a good discussion your majesty?" Erlina asked as she settled into her spot and started rustling in the pack for her needlework.

"No," Anora answered as she pulled back a curtain so as to get a breeze through the stuffy carriage.

"Non? I thought with how flushed you were things might have been progressing well," Erlina said sounding as if she was about to pout over matters.

Anora shot the elf a look of disbelief. "If my color is high that is because of temper and not some foolish lover's fling."

"Oh I am sure your highness," the maid said paying keen attention to her work then. "Lovers fight too though non? And you certainly have been more...invigorated with your current husband than you were with your late husband."

"Only because he infuriates me so. Cailan was far more biddable. Do not let that romantic head of yours run off with your sense Erlina."

"Of course not your majesty," the elf said in a neutral tone though Anora got the distinct impression the orlesian girl thought this entire situation funny.

The Queen gave a hum of disapproval as she turned to look out the window again, watching trees pass by as the caravan moved. She went back over the conversation with Alistair in her mind, trying to see how she might have better handled matters. She did not see the conversation as a complete failure for surely there was something to learn about the man in matters.

She was having to concede the point that Alistair was not entirely like Cailan. They still had a number of similarities but Alistair seemed to possess more of a spine than Cailan, even if he was standing for the wrong things. No that was not quite correct, Alistair stood for things that she could see and agree were the right things to do but at the same time could have long reaching effects that would be devastating for the rest of the nation. Case in point the situation with the Grey Wardens being awarded Amaranthine. There was currently only one Ferelden Warden and he could not be arl because he was already busy being king. That was bad enough but it meant there was to be a foreigner to possess the title. Something Anora could imagine many of the Banns in the area not liking in the least and she certainly did not like. Even more there was nothing she could currently do about it until she managed to have the proclamation rescinded, not an easy thing to do without the King's backing and even harder if he actively kept an eye on it like he was likely to do now that she had spoken poorly of it.

That was only from the political angle of things. On the personal note they might as well have been on different sides of Thedas. So far they had not been able to hold a civil conversation without Alistair bringing up Anora's father. Anora thought she was behaving appropriately in ignoring the comments but it was starting to grate and nag at her that he did it every time. She was not getting on his case about Cailan's faults too often after all, and she had every right to likely.

Granted that Alistair was not without his good points. For all that it frustrated and startled her Anora had to admit she could respect Alistair's opinions on things. Unlike Cailan who had often operated blindly, Alistair certainly seemed to at least be able to speak intelligently though he was perhaps not as knowledgeable as he should be in matters. He was obviously also willing to stand up for those beliefs, though Anora was unsure how far yet. Cailan had often bowed if badgered to much about things, like when...

The Queen's stubborn jaw clenched and for a moment tears choked her though she did not permit them to reach her eyes. She raised a hand to press fingers to the sockets of her skull, making sure nothing escaped while she waited for the moment of weakness to pass. It always did eventually though it seemed to rear it's head more often now. It was only because of Alistair she knew. The similarities and expectations pressing on her to remind her of far more painful times. What she felt was merely the ache of an old wound long healed and it would pass soon enough.

Though...it made her miss her father...

Anora let out a sigh as she leaned her head against the carriage, staring at trees as it jostled on. She understood her father's death and she blamed no one for it. He had not raised a fool for a daughter after all and had stressed that the laws of the land would apply to all. There was to be no special treatment like Orlesians liked to give their precious chevaliers in Ferelden, not even to royalty or nobility.

Had her father simply thought he would never be caught? That she would support his actions? Or had he been too far gone to see?

Anora could not claim to know. She had come to the conclusion that she knew far less of the man than she had thought before the Blight. She could only accept what had happened, not change it, and move on with her life though it had certainly become far more difficult than before.

Blue eyes looked out into the woods, watching the trees go by and remembering far more simple times. When she had been young and her father, King Maric, and Cailan would go hunting. Simple times and pleasures to squeeze in between state meetings and long weeks of not seeing her father at all.

It was only because she had been staring out the carriage window, musing over problems and life that she saw it. The tell tale flicker of fire where it should not have been. She focused on it in confusion as she blinked, seeing a sinister smiling individual...holding it?

Eyes went wide in shock for a moment as she watched the fire be pulled back before the man holding it pitched forward, the fire in his hands leaving it and sailing upwards for a moment before arching downward like an arrow right at...

Anora's shock was short lived as her mind clicked back on. She yelled Erlina's name as she dove across the seat to get away from the open window. The elf looked up in confusion from her mistress's tone of alarm right as the fireball struck just outside the coach. The force of it pushing hard enough to have the ladies screaming for a moment as it fell onto it's side. There was the distinct sound of bone snapping as Erlina shrieked in pain. Anora herself hit her head on something hard enough to have the world spinning and trying to darken on her as she heard the guards outside yelling in agony or calling their fellows to arms.

"Erlina?" Anora called as she slowly closed and opened her eyes, trying to make them focus better so she could see. While Anora had been to battles she had certainly never been in the middle of one. Part of her wanted to crumble into hysterics that she had a fireball lobbed at her while another that sounded decidedly like her father ordered her up on her feet and told her to get moving. She opted to listen to the latter one.

She called for the elf again as she worked on sitting up, blinking about owlishly as she struggled to take information in with her other senses. She could smell smoke, the stench of burning bodies and blood. The clang of metal was obvious as well, meaning the guard had engaged whoever. From the looks of her surroundings the carriage had stayed on it's side. She could smell burning wood and was sure it was afire as well but not so badly as to have her and Erlina scrambling for their lives.

Her maid appeared to be unconscious for she wasn't moving and her arm was twisted at an unnatural angle for the limb. Anora cringed a bit thinking of how much pain she was in once from falling out of an apple tree on the palace grounds. It was likely better her maid was out cold or her cries might pull attackers down on them and while Anora knew Erlina knew the value of silence, pain was a difficult thing to block out.

The Queen looked up at the open windows now effectively above her and her maid, thoughts of climbing out entering her head before she discarded them. She would never be able to lift Erlina up that far and quite likely she would be spotted by the bandits and she was certainly not leaving her maid here in the middle of a possible death trap with thugs all around.

The blond woman looked around the carriage again, breathing a small sigh of relief that the pack was still here with them and had not been thrown from the carriage. A moment of ruffling produced the gleaming silverite dagger her and Erlina made a point of keeping in it after the Howe debacle. Anora was not keen on being a prisoner ever again if she could help it.

Thankfully the Orlesians did not make the entire carriage out of wood. It would have been such a waste of timber in Anora's eyes, even more than the ornate thing was. The roof however was made of cloth and leather, things that could be sliced away and leave an opening for Anora to drag Erlina out of the coach.

With a grunt of effort Anora stabbed the knife through the roof and started pulling down at an angle. It was certainly thicker than her original estimate and far better craftsmanship than she anticipated but thankfully brute force was enough to pull the dagger through before she repeated the process again to make an X.

"Come on Erlina we are getting out of here," Anora told the unconscious elf then as she looped the pack around her neck before pulling the elf's good arm over her shoulder. The Queen had to be thankful for elves with their slight builds being lighter or she might have had some serious trouble with matters. It was one of the few things she could be thankful for though as she pulled Erlina free of the carriage and looked around the battlefield. The clash of metal and cries of men deafening in her ears. There seemed to be fighting everywhere and Anora frowned at it. She knew there was some desperate people after the Blight but this seemed far too close to suicidal for refugees in dire straights. Bandits and thugs could not hold up against the royal guard and that did not explain the mage she saw.

Telling herself to analyze and question things later Anora made for the tree line. The attack had come from the north so she headed south to pull Erlina into the vegetation away from the fighting where she and Anora might better be hidden.

She did not get far though before the fighting swallowed her up as well. One of the thugs she could only assume given the poorer quality leather armor seemed to pop out of nowhere with a sword for Anora. She ducked quickly, dropping Erlina and pack into the dirt as she backed away and got a better grip on her dagger. The bandit let his missed strike carry him forward, chasing the Queen by his momentum as he spun the sword for another blow.

Anora parried this one with the dagger as she backtracked more. A lone dagger against a thug with a sword was not ideal odds to the Queen but then her father had been keen on stressing that odds might never be ideal in a fight.

She rolled to the side, almost tripping in her skirt as she got away from another strike. She did manage to buy a precious second to glance about for anything that might help her situation. She spotted something of use quickly enough and as the bandit attacked again she dodged towards it, keeping herself low and switching the hand holding her dagger. The thug seemed to think this a perfect time to try disarming her, putting more force into his swing to knock the knife from her hand instead of striking quickly.

Anora took advantage of that as she dropped to one knee on the ground. Her empty hand scooping up a fallen tree branch that the fireball had lit on the ground. Her knife sliced across the bandit's knees as his sword whistled harmlessly over her head. As she came backup from her crippling blow she put all her might into her makeshift club, shattering the branch into the side of the man's head. He toppled like a sack of potatoes to the ground, his sword clattering to the ground at the Queen's feet which she quickly picked up in lieu of her shattered improvised club.

She spotted more men now. One of them pointing at her and yelling something. Anora cursed mentally as she stabbed her blades into the ground and grabbed the side hem of her dress. Fighting she could manage but she needed to be able to move, something this dress was not designed for. With a mental note to apologize to her seamstress Anora gave a hard yank, ripping the dress down one side to let her legs be mobile. She repeated the process quickly with the other side as there were enemies closing in on her.

There would have been three were it not for the guard. A pair of guardsmen tackling some of her attackers though one of them took a maul strike to the chest for it that had him down in the dusty road. This left the other guard with two men to handle while the third managed to get past him to attack Anora.

With two proper weapons now though and mobility Anora was quite ready for her attacker. Anora always had excelled at being quicker than her attacker, and having a dagger instead of a heavy shield like her father preferred helped with that. She was much quicker at dispatching the second attacker, only to have a third pop up, and then another.

She was finishing off a large man with a maul when the world seemed to twist around her. Anora could feel her stomach lurch as everything felt like it was spinning and for a moment she wondered if she had sustained a far worse injury than she had thought before. Completely disoriented with her surroundings and dizzy she fell back against the fallen carriage, her spine hitting one of the roof supports as she tried to focus in order to defend herself.

She could only blink though as she saw that same smiling man from before. She tried to stand straight, to get her feet under her properly so she could attack. She was not positive how successful she was though as she took a swing and missed completely. The blade bit into the wooden frame of the carriage and left Anora tugging on it in a panic as it refused to budge.

Blue eyes went wide in fear as she looked back at the distorted smiling fellow. There was fire on his fingertips again and Anora had a really bad feeling she was not going to be so lucky at avoid it this time.

She was partly correct. Something strange happened as the mage started to cast. She did not recall the obscenely bright light from last time or the yowl of pain from the mage and he started to smoke. The flames that would have burned the life from her caught her clothes and had Anora dropping to roll in the dirt to put them out, even as she cried out in mild pain and complete terror as she went blind from the light.

She tightened her grip on her dagger while she patted about with her hand, trying not to get hysterical and figure out how close to the coach she was. If she pressed her back to it she might survive for a bit and could hope for the guard to reach her or her eyesight to return. She could hold on that long certainly, she had to...

For a moment she could swear she heard someone call her name along with the low growl of a dog but she could not tell who it was. She might have been imagining it out of fear for all she knew. She felt someone grab her arm then roughly and pulling on it. Panic had her striking out with the dagger, which hit something hard and had her stabbing again hoping to make the hand release her.

Instead though there was a dim sounding curse and muttering before whoever it was caught her wrist and twisted it just enough to have Anora yelping and dropping the knife. With little else left to her Anora tried to stay on the attack with her hands and feet. The someone was armored though and some of the bandits had been in armor instead of leathers. She tried to recall who had been nearby that might be helping her but could think of no one and the guard would have waited until she answered them.

"Ow! Dammit Anora! Ow! Stop it!"

Whoever it was though was not having any more of it. After getting Anora to drop the knife the metal clad arms wrapped around her torso, pinning her arms and then her legs with his own. The queen had terrifying thoughts of being violated on the field. She knew the tale of how the Mac Tir's ended up being on the run before Maric had taken his throne back after all.

Whoever it was swore at her too calling her a bleeding harpy that needed to stop sharpening her talons. Anora blinked quickly though her sight was still fuzzy. She thought things were starting to look a bit better but it was hard to tell. There was someone looming over her she could tell, with armor that shined instead of looking dull like the poorly cared for armor of the caravan's attackers she had seen. They also did not seem to have any weapons. She stopped her struggling though she was still nervous of matters as she tried to look about and take in her surroundings. From the looks of things there was a sword and shield nearby but she could not seem to make herself focus enough to tell who's it was or if she was really seeing a wheel and axle perhaps.

"It's alright. Your eyes are not permanently damaged. It just blinds everyone because of the residual energies released from the mage."

"The mage," Anora said in alarm remembering the smiling fellow that had been attacking her.

"It's alright, he's gone now. I don't think he expected someone with templar training to be in the ranks."

Blue eyes narrowed a moment as Anora tried to place the voice talking to her. It only took a few moments before the tension and fear relaxed out of her. "Alistair," she sighed out in relief. He might have been infuriating but he was certainly not the type of man to ever hurt a woman. That also meant that his hound would be nearby to help ward off attackers.

"Oh so now you realize who it is. I'll have you know that you almost took my arm off with that bloody dagger of yours. I didn't know you even knew which end to stick into someone."

Anora sniffed at that, haughty pride still there in spite of the urge to laugh or cry from being safe and sound finally. "I happen to be excellent with a blade and a bow."

"It was not an insult Anora, you managed to hold your own until the mage and no one can demand more than that from any soldier, much less from a queen I think."

She blinked more as she tried to look at Alistair and read his expression, a sad impossibility while her eyes were still adjusting. "Was that a compliment?"

"Don't let it go to your head."

Anora tried to move then, hissing a bit from her injuries as Garahel whined at her before Alistair tightened his grip on her.

"You're fine just stay right here until your eyes come back," he stated in a concerned tone that nonetheless issued an order.

"But Erlina-"

"I had some men collect her. She should be ok from what I could see. We'll go check on her once you can see again. You would hate to be stumbling about like a baby trying to walk after all. Just relax a moment alright, if it's one thing I know it's how to handle what comes after a battle."

Anora had to admit he had a point. Alistair quite likely had seen far more battles than she ever would in her existence. "Well you certainly know enough about this er...affliction that the mage did."

"Actually..." the King began sounding very leery, "I did that. It was the only thing that popped to mind to disrupt the mage's casting and you were kind of in the way of it."

"You," Anora stated sounding puzzled before she remembered a few things Cailan had told her about Alistair. She scowled a bit and wanted to yell at the ex templar-warden-idiot for scaring the life out of her. She stopped though as she realized one important and mind numbing fact.

"You saved me..."

There was a very uncomfortable silence that settled between them that had Alistair shifting. "Well of course I saved you. Think I'm such a beast as to just let some mage turn you into a frog or whatever? Remind me to tell you a few tales about Morrigan. She was this apostate that travelled with Kallian and me during the Blight and by far the worst bitch I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. There were a large number of times I really wanted to let her bleed out on the battlefield but I always figured her mother would eat me or something if I didn't keep her alive. Particularly since Kallian went being all nice about the matter. Didn't stop me from encouraging Garahel to drop half eaten hares in her pack though."

Anora could not help herself. Between the relief and joy of survival and the ridiculous picture Alistair painted she started giggling before remembering herself and covering her mouth with one hand.

"Is that...a giggle from the Queen I heard?"

Anora cleared her throat as she did her best to resist the urge to gnaw on her fingernails. A childhood bad habit she still possessed when nervous. She said nothing though, deciding not to grace that question with a reply.

Her sight was back enough to see Alistair give a crooked grin. "Don't worry I won't tell anyone. They aren't likely to believe me anyway," he said in a conspiratorial tone.

That set her off again before she covered her mouth again, trying to regain her composure. She brushed loose locks behind her ears, mentally cringing as they hung down past her shoulders. Between those, her ruined dress, and the blood splatters that covered her; she looked more like a refugee or a victim of a violent crime than the queen she was. It annoyed her that she looked so disheveled while Alistair looked the part of conquering hero returning.

"Are you seeing clearly now? We should have a healer take a look at you for-"

"I am alright and thank you. My sight is sufficient to allow me to see the injured," Anora said as she waited for Alistair to release her so she could stand. Instead though he decided to pick her up completely as he stood up before slowly and carefully setting her on her feet. Tawny eyes seemed to be studying her as she straightened under her own power. It left Anora wondering what was going through Alistair's head right that moment. A strange occurance since he was usually so easy to read.

The King seemed to pull himself a little taller than, extending an arm to Anora that had her blinking in puzzlement at it while he rose a brow. "I am suppose to go with right? Make sure everyone is being tended and that everyone has our thanks for defending us and such?"

"Oh," Anora said realizing that she had not thought about that. She had been wanting to make sure that Erlina was alright and being seen to. It made sense though to see as many injured as they could, taking stock of the situation so that they might best know how to handle it. "Of course," she replied more assuredly with a nod as she looped her arm through Alistair's. "A king and queen should be thankful to the people that have saved them."

Alistair simply smiled, looking relieved as the bloody pair headed off to deal with matters.

"You failed."

Remy scowled at the shattered caravan from his spot hiding in the bushes as he watched the King and Queen of Ferelden parade about. "I did not realize the King was a templar as well as a bloody warden. Weren't you suppose to be keeping him busy in the front while I handled her Jocelin?"

"And Artois told us to wait until we had more information, something he and I agreed on," his sister stated with narrowed pale colored eyes. She pointed at him with one of the arrows from her quiver, shaking it like a mother would a finger. "You need to learn patience Remy. The patron will not be pleased with this."

"The patron wanted her."

"The patron requires all information about matters first," Joceline said sharply. "And you jeopardized that with this poorly executed scheme. Leave such matters to Artois, he's the one that is trained for it after all."

Remy glared from under brunette colored bangs that he shared with his siblings. "Artois moves far too slow for matters. Besides we already know the King is going to be bendable enough, we just need to remove the real ruler from the throne."

Jocelin shook her head before eyeing Remy suspiciously. "You are not usually so foolish brother. Is there something we should know about that is troubling you?"

The younger man shuddered a bit under his sister's gaze even as he licked his lips nervously. "I just don't like the thought of a templar in power over a country. He'll favor the Chantry in everything and make life horrendous for us mages you'll see. It'll be just like Kirkwall is with templars crawling all over the place. Makes me nervous and want this done quickly before it all takes effect and I have nowhere to hide anymore."

Jocelin looked almost sympathetic, one fine boned hand reaching out to brush over her little brother's hair. "It's alright Remy. You know we aren't about to let templars take you and our patron will make sure you don't end up in a Circle. You are far too valuable out here after all...when you aren't running off on mad schemes."

****Remy looked back at the royals before he and Jocelin turned to vanish further into the forest. "Yes sister...I just hope Artois is having some luck in his endeavors."


End file.
